


Home for Christmas

by Sandylee007



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandylee007/pseuds/Sandylee007
Summary: AU WITH NO SUPERHEROES AND SUPERPOWERS          Tony Stark's luxurious but empty life changes forever when he literally runs into a homeless boy named Peter. Will he be able to and willing to help? And will Peter make it home for Christmas?(TRIGGER WARNING for non-graphically described child abuse and domestic abuse)





	1. The First Collision

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Home for Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/431201) by Sandylee007. 



> (Notes for the very first chapter.)
> 
> Here we are, folks! At the beginning of an entirely new story. Are you guys excited? I hope you're excited.  
> DISCLAIMER: MUAH-HAH-HAA! Yeah, right… Like I'd EVER have enough money to own anything but a bunch of DVDs and figurines. And nope, no profit made of this.  
> WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE AND DOMESTIC ABUSE, adult themes, some coarse language… This WILL NOT be a smooth ride. BUT, fret not, everyone we care about WILL live through it. (Just felt the need to reassure you…)  
> Okay… It's ALWAYS nerve-wrecking to start a new story. So best just bite the bullet. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

Billionaire playboy Tony Stark was having a really, seriously, appallingly horrible day. He was nursing the mother of all hangovers and the gloominess from his latest fight with his ex-girlfriend Pepper Potts. (Weren't those fights supposed to end with their relationship? Well, he shouldn't have gotten together with a coworker. Some genius he was…) He honestly couldn't tell which… inconvenience was a bigger factor in the violently pulsating headache he had. He couldn't do a whole lot of thinking, period. Not until he'd get his hands on the biggest and strongest mug of coffee New York had to offer. The last thing he expected was that the day could actually get worse.

Tony's sullen train of thought came to a violent halt when he jerked forward on his seat as his driver, Happy Hogan, slammed the breaks. It was a tight competition which one of them cursed louder. The billionaire felt his blood run cold at the sickening thump of something hitting the vehicle.

The profane string of words leaving Happy was barely comprehensible. "He… He came out of nowhere, I swear…!" His driver had never, ever been so pale and wide-eyed. Under different circumstances it might've been comical. "I didn't see him…!"

Tony wasn't listening. Still feeling unnaturally cold, he dashed out of the car to see just how messed up things would get. His heart, which most people assumed didn't exist, skipped a beat at what awaited him.

A little boy with dirty face and overgrown, greasy brown hair had fallen to the pavement, and was currently crying inconsolably while cradling his left arm. There was a hint of snot and blood under the child's nose and he was trembling pitiably from pain, cold and shock. The boy's clearly injured limb worked desperately to hold on to a hideous, definitely unsanitary teddy bear the kid should've been too old for. Tony had hard time estimating the child's exact age, mainly because of his… limited experience with kids. (Which he wasn't planning on expanding, thank you very much.) Seven, or small for his age? The boy's entirely too thin clothes were as filthy as his face and had gotten too small long ago. The child's eyes were wide, glazed over and full of tears. It took Tony an embarrassing amount of time to realize that they were locked on a sandwich that'd been squashed by the car's tire. (Wasn't the kid supposed to feel lucky and relieved that he hadn't been squashed as well?) The boy's body was even thinner than his clothes. It must've been ages from his last proper meal. The whole sight was so damned miserable that the billionaire felt an unwanted twinge of ache and sympathy.

Tony approached slowly, his hands revealed in a probably hilarious placating gesture. He didn't know a damned thing about children. But he had enough common sense to put together that this one was scared and hurting. The last thing his pounding head needed was triggering more tears or panic. "Kid?" he inquired uncharacteristically cautiously. (This was like walking across a minefield…) "Are you… okay?" The boy whimpered and tried to wrap both arms around himself, only to whimper again from agony. "Sorry, stupid question." (Way to go, genius, a bitter voice sneered in his head.) "I can see that you hurt your arm. What else hurts?" Please don't tell me that he's dying, he mentally pleaded whatever or whoever was listening.

The kid sniveled. Those eyes were still hazy but they peered cautiously towards him before looking away again. (A new emotion just showed itself. Embarrassment. Downright self-loathing, on the face of a little boy.) "Back. And head. Arm's the worst, though." The words were barely audible. The child tried to wipe away his tears but more came immediately. "I… I'm sorry… I wasn't looking…!" The rest was unintelligible.

"You seriously need to learn to be more careful with traffic. This is New York! Do you want to get squashed like that sandwich?" Tony didn't mean to sound as sharp and accusative as he did. He regretted the tone the second the boy shrunk into himself, sheer terror making the already blanched face somehow pale further. The billionaire berated himself mentally and took a deep breath. "Now's not the time for lectures, right? We've gotta get you to a hospital."

"You're not taking that piece of shit anywhere before he pays me!" a new voice snarled. Loud and hostile enough to startle them both. Tony was fairly sure that the only thing keeping the boy from running away was paralyzing shock. The child's current condition didn't seem to faze the arrival much. "The brat had the nerve to steal from me. He needs to be taught a lesson!"

Tony kept his eyes on the little boy, who'd very clearly only taken that stupid sandwich to satisfy a desperate hunger. And his temper boiled. "You know what?" He turned a venomous pair of eyes to find a fat, tall man who looked distinctly like a rat. "Thank you, for your touching amount of concern for this child. How about I take care of scolding him after he's gotten proper medical care?" He tossed a twenty-dollar note at the disgruntled store-owner. "Maybe this helps with your hurt feelings."

The man muttered loudly and heatedly. But accepted the money, still glaring at the boy. "If I ever see that piece of filth again, I won't be responsible for my actions." With that threat the man stormed back to his store.

The child hadn't dared to breathe since the stranger's arrival. When the threat finally disappeared the boy started gasping, loudly and visibly painfully. The kid wasn't crying anymore but there was still moisture and sadness in his eyes. Along with so much shame that it seemed to nearly drown the child. "Th-thank you", the kid choked out, pointedly not looking towards him. "I know that it's wrong to steal. And stupid. Mom, May and Ben… They taught me so. But… I was so hungry."

Tony sighed heavily. "Hmph." This whole mess wasn't doing his headache any favors. He breathed in and out. "I just bought you a stupidly expensive sandwich. Are you gonna tell me your name?" He aimed for a light, joking tone but didn't quite succeed.

The boy flinched. His good arm squeezed the teddy bear tighter for comfort. "Peter", the boy whispered cautiously. Like giving that information was something dangerous.

Tony nodded slowly. This kid was so jittery…! "And I'm Tony."

"I know." Peter shuddered and hurried to continue, visibly terrified that he'd crossed a line. "I… I mean, your pictures… They're everywhere."

"Right…" Tony wasn't a fan of the fame his fortune brought along. Especially at times like this, when he sat on filthy pavement, in a tailored suit, next to a child his driver hit with a car. He needed coffee. And a painkiller. And a drink. He didn't care in which order he'd get them. Out of the pair of them he wasn't the one feeling more uncomfortable, though. "Look, I meant what I said earlier about the hospital. Let's go. Happy will take us."

Peter's eyes flew wider. The child shook his head fervently. "No, no…! I'm… I'm okay."

Tony stared at the boy incredulously. "Kid, you've got a broken arm, probably a concussion and who knows what other injuries. You're not okay. And you're going to a hospital, whether you like it or not."

For the first time Peter met his eyes properly, the boy's gaze full of naked despair. (It tugged at the billionaire's heart of cold iron, the man had to admit to himself reluctantly.) "Mr. Stark, please, no…! They'll… They'll find me. I mean, the… social people. And they'll send me away, to another fake-home. I don't want a new fake-home, not anymore. They're not safe!"

So, yeah. Tony seriously didn't have any idea how to proceed. "Are you… talking about social workers? They're supposed to find homes for kids who need them. That's their job. Why would you be scared of them?"

Peter tried to produce speech. And failed. The boy's head fell and shoulders slumped in defeat. The trembling from before worsened while pain intensified.

Tony sighed heavily. Again. (This kid was good at making him do that, it seemed.) "C'mon. Off we go. Let's have a doctor give you a look."

With an aura of dejection Peter struggled up and limped to the car where a still horrified Happy awaited. The second Tony sat down the boy scooted as close to him as humanly possible. The billionaire tensed up automatically as response to the unexpected physical contact. His chest tightened to a point where breathing didn't feel good. (One heck of a moment to teeter on the edge of having a panic attack…) "Sorry, kid. But… Let's not go that far yet."

Peter jumped further as though his close proximity had burned. The sting from the rejection was clearly evident on his shame-filled face. "Sorry, Mr. Stark", the boy murmured.

Tony… didn't know how to respond. All he knew was that somehow those few words succeeded in making him feel like the worst person on the planet. If it wasn't for Happy's frantic questions about the child's wellbeing the silence in the car would've been suffocating.

/ 

Peter didn't speak a single word more during the ride to the hospital. Tony's intention was to leave as soon as he'd handed his unwanted and unexpected charge to the capable hands of medical professionals. But he found himself waiting, Happy faithfully by his side. He told himself that he did so purely out of guilt.

Eventually a nurse took pity on him, or maybe she grew tired of his constant pacing and lingering looks. She whispered to him that Peter would be perfectly fine, given some time. The child sported a couple of broken bones, a mild concussion and a lot of deep bruising, and was lucky to not have it far worse. A couple of days at the hospital should be enough.

Peter's future was a far more complicated matter. Understandably a social worker had to be called in. She introduced herself curtly as Maria Hill before disappearing to have a talk with the medical personnel and the child. After roughly two hours Tony and Happy got sick of waiting. Following a lucky hunch, they made it to an otherwise empty hallway just in time to catch Maria, a nurse and a doctor talking. "… on the streets for six months …"

Tony felt his blood boil at that information. "What? How the hell can a child end up to the streets for that long?" Didn't his school notice or care? Didn't anyone care?

Maria gave him a dark look. "You'd be surprised. The system is so full of holes and flaws that it's criminally easy to slip through." She shook her head in disgust and frustration. "Short version? The social services failed him. But we'll do better, now."

Tony was glad that the kid would be okay and looked after, of course. But he couldn't shake away the vague squirming of unease in the pit of his stomach. Happy seemed to experience something similar. "You'll… find him a new home, right?" Happy didn't have a paternal bone in his body. And it'd already been announced by the police that there'd be no charges because what happened was obviously an accident. (Tony kept the knowledge of Peter's theft to himself.) But the driver must've felt… responsible. (Tony knew, because so did he.)

Maria didn't quite smile but the look in her eyes revealed that she understood. "We'll make sure that he'll find a safe place to stay. Right now he's getting the treatment he needs and is eating his first proper meal in a long time. This may sound horrible, but… He was lucky to meet you two. Otherwise he might've never made it away from the streets. And… Thank you. I heard that you're paying for his care."

Tony tried to find comfort from those words. He shrugged. "The least I could do, right?" He didn't expect the next words jumping out of his mouth. "Can I see him before we leave?"

The nurse seemed as surprised as he felt. It took a moment before she managed to nod. "Sure. He… did ask about you. I'll show you the way."

Peter had already finished eating what little the child could stomach when Tony entered the room. The boy had been about to fall asleep, his healthy arm cradling the teddy bear lovingly. But the child's eyes widened at the sight of him. "I… I thought you left", Peter sputtered.

"I am about to go soon. I'm already supposed to be at a meeting. But… I wanted to give you something, first." Tony didn't know what prompted the gesture even he hadn't seen coming. But he placed his business card to the table beside the hospital bed. "I know that they'll find you a cool new home. But if you need help, or something… Give me a call." He was almost sure that the child wouldn't. Maybe that was why he dared to leave the card.

Peter stared at the item longingly, surprised. Then chewed the inside of his cheek, obviously gathering courage. "Mr. Stark?"

Tony still had a headache and he was late. Which was why he sounded so irritable that he regretted it instantly. (Not that he would've ever admitted as much.) "Yeah?"

The words Peter wanted to say were loud and clear in the boy's eyes. ('Please don't go.' 'Take me with you.' 'I'm scared, please stay.' 'Don't leave me here.') But in the end the child swallowed thickly and dropped his gaze. Shoulders slumping. "Just… Bye."

Tony did his best to smile, even if the boy didn't lift his gaze to see it. "Bye, kid. Stay safe." With those words he walked away. Even if it was harder than it was supposed to be.

(He should've known that it wasn't the last time he met Peter.)

Tony and Happy just stepped out of an elevator when the billionaire's phone rang. It was Pepper. "Explain to me why I'm watching a YouTube video of Happy hitting some child with his car."

Tony grimaced, knowing that the bad day was only going to keep getting worse.


	2. Ice Cream for Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over a year has passed by before Tony sees Peter again. Fairly quickly it becomes obvious that the boy hasn't found the happiness he deserves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? The site is functioning properly. Which means that it's time to update! (grins and rubs hands together)  
> THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your reviews, listings and love! DAAAANG. I REALLY hope that you'll remain as excited about this as you were after the first chapter! (BEAMS, and HUGS)  
> Awkay, folks… Are you ready? Because it's time to get going. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

Time passed by. Over a year. Guilt eased, tabloids found new favorite topics and Peter practically disappeared. Which didn't keep a thought or two from popping into Tony's head sometimes, when he was particularly happy or particularly miserable. On the most optimistic days he was almost able to imagine the boy as a part of some loving family. Safe and sound, far away from the streets. On far worse days he caught a distinct glimpse of a brown-haired boy with a teddy bear and felt cold shivers.

Since encountering Peter Tony was far more eager to donate a few coins for the homeless of New York. (Of course he firmly denied as much.) Happy drove amusingly slowly. But in many ways life remained the same. Tony still worked and drank too much. Happy was still his glorified babysitter whenever he got too much for Pepper to handle, even professionally. The billionaire still found far too many things occupying his buzzing mind at the same time, as had been his custom since the day he was born. In the middle of the turmoil known as life the memory of a little boy almost faded.

Until one early afternoon his phone rang.

After a long and grueling business meeting Tony was just about to crack open a beyond tempting bottle of Scotch. A low, far from pleased groan crawled up his throat when a painfully shrill dial tone polluted the air. His voice definitely wasn't at its kindest when he eventually decided to pick up. To berate the caller, if for nothing else. "What?" How was that for the social butterfly everyone seemed to imagine he was…?

The silence continued for so long that he almost hung up. Until he heard a child's voice that sent a shudder through his whole body. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark! This, calling you, is stupid… You probably don't even remember me…" Peter trailed off. "The school nurse… She said that I need someone to pick me up. I know that you're busy with more important stuff, but… Can you help, please? There's… I've got no one else."

Tony couldn't even imagine how desperate the boy had to be to call him. Still a part of him wanted to refuse, wanted to avoid getting too close. The other part of him won. "Where are you?"

/

The thoughts that spun around in Tony's head on the way to the given address weren't exactly pleasant. He had no idea what he was going to say to the child when he'd get to him. 'Why me?' was one of the main-thoughts in his buzzing head, with more meanings than one. He was the last person any kid should put their hopes on…!

Tony had even less of an idea what to say when he actually saw Peter, sitting on a park's bench close to a school. Another boy sat beside the child and clearly tried to get him to start talking but all the billionaire could focus on was Peter. Time had passed by but somehow the kid seemed smaller than before. Peter sat there with hunched shoulders, visibly exhausted, sad and terrified. Then the boy lifted his head and Tony's breath caught in his throat.

There were bruises on Peter's arm, which was revealed due to a tattered coat. One mark by the wrist had the shape of a large hand and fingers. But the face… It was a map of black, blue and yellow. One of the child's eyes had almost swollen closed.

"Jesus, kid…!" Tony sputtered. "What happened to you?"

Peter gulped. The look on the boy's battered face suggested that he thought he was in trouble. "I'm… I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. But I didn't… I didn't know who else to call. My… parents… They're busy. I'm not allowed to bother them when they're busy."

Tony's stomach squirmed as those words registered. And yes, his blood boiled. Because even the thought of someone hurting a kid like that made him feel sick. Also, what kind of adoptive parents told such a little boy not to call them when he needed them? "You don't have to apologize, okay? I just wanna know what happened."

Instead of answering Peter averted his gaze and shuddered, shutting down.

The other boy was marginally more helpful. Worry, fear and helplessness were clearly visible in the eyes meeting his. "Older kids attacked him. I… I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't let me. And the others… They just laughed."

Tony nodded slowly. To an adult it was blatantly obvious that some of those injuries were far older and caused by someone much bigger than a school-student. But despite his infamous lack of tact he figured that overwhelming either boy with more questions would get him nowhere. The new information only intensified the bubbling of lava in his veins. It honestly shocked him how cruel children could be. "Okay", he breathed out and pinched the bridge of his nose. What, exactly, was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He glanced towards the more talkative kid once more. "And who are you?"

"Ned. We're best friends." The last four words were said with an adorable amount of pride. The boy frowned, his worries not having eased even slightly. "Nurse Sharon said that he doesn't have to go to a hospital. But he's been really quiet, and I think he's in pain…" Ned trailed off for a while. "He's… gonna be okay, right?"

"I'm okay." Peter definitely didn't sound like it. The boy pushed himself up with immense difficulty and bit his lower lip to not cry out. The child cast a pleading look towards the billionaire. "Can we… go?"

Tony nodded and wondered with dread just what sort of a mess he'd gotten involved in. "C'mon. There should be a hoodie or something in the car, to help you warm up." The child's coat was so badly tormented that it didn't seem to do a lot of good at keeping him warm.

Gratitude shone on Peter's bruised face and in the fully healthy eye. The boy turned stiffly and gave Ned a small wave. "Thanks, for helping me."

"I didn't even really do anything." Ned didn't seem happy about letting the other boy out of his sight. (Tony felt a ridiculous, fleeting urge to assure the boy that he'd look after Peter.) "You'll… let me know as soon as you're home, right? I wanna know you're okay."

Peter nodded. Even though it hurt. "'course. And thanks, for waiting, too. You didn't have to."

Ned scoffed, incredulous. "What, you thought I'd just leave you? No way! We're Jedi Knights, remember?"

The proclamation seemed to bring Peter as close to laughing as crying. The kids exchanged a bizarre handshake. Tony found the sight tugging at something deep inside him, and wasn't sure what to make of it.

Peter remained quiet the whole way to the car despite Tony's best efforts to start a conversation. The boy managed a brief, polite greeting for Happy, who seemed about as worried as the billionaire refused to admit he felt. Then the child sat down to the backseat, jumped at the sound of the doors closing and burst into tears.

Tony was quite honestly terrified. He was horrible at comforting people and this was a child. He didn't have even the faintest clue what to do. "Hey, hey…! Peter." He did his best to keep his tone in check but the boy still shivered while trying to stop crying so hard that it seemed to hurt. "What's going on?"

Peter sniffled and wiped his eyes with a fist. "Those bullies… They're always picking on me. Calling me stupid for starting school late." The boy hung his head. "May, my aunt… She never had the time to send me to any school, before she…" He trailed off. "And… The first people I was sent to didn't let me go. So… I didn't get to start school until after the hospital."

Tony stared. "Jesus, kid…", he breathed out. How was this boy still alive and sane? "How did you end up to the streets, anyway?"

Peter swallowed thickly and seemed nauseous. Some tears still rolled. "After May… I was sent to this fake-home. They had other kids, too. I… didn't like how the man there touched me. Or a lot of other stuff there. So I ran away. No one noticed. Before you." There seemed to be a much bigger and longer story hidden but the boy's body language made clear that he wasn't going to explain further.

So, yeah. Now it was Tony's turn to feel sick. He had to compose himself for a while before talking. "Peter… Whatever those jerks at school tell you… You're not stupid. Got that? You've gotta be really smart to have made it alone for so long. If I had to make it all alone at your age… I would've been really scared."

"I was scared", Peter admitted quietly. The boy chewed the inside of his cheek and peered cautiously towards him. "You really think I'm smart?"

"Uh huh." Tony knew that he was already pushing the kid's boundaries. And he wasn't supposed to care. But yet again his mouth was the fastest part of him. "What happened today, anyway? Because… I recognize upset when I see it. And you look upset."

That… was like pulling the socket off a hand-grenade. Unable to control himself, Peter burst into loud sobs once more. "They… They took Huggy… And tore him apart." The boy buried his face to both hands. "Huggy… He was the last thing I had of my mom… And they just… They just…" No more words would come.

Tony surprised himself with figuring out fairly quickly that the boy was talking about his teddy bear. An unexpected bout of rage crossed him. That stupid toy survived a horrible foster home, months of homelessness and who knows what came after. And then a bunch of jackass brats destroyed it? He patted the child's shoulder in a hilariously clumsy offer of comfort. "I'm sorry, kid."

Peter said nothing. It was impossible to tell if the boy even heard him. The child curled up the best as he could. The previous time they met Peter sought his close proximity to feel better. Now the boy seemed to pull away emotionally as well as physically. For some stupid reason the change stung Tony like acid.

Unlike his actions suggested most of the time, Tony was an adult. Mature enough to realize, on a level of reason, that he should've taken Peter back to wherever the child lived as quickly as possible. But the piece of him feeling reluctant to separate so quickly proved to be stronger. (He had a sad and hurting child in his hands. So sue him for being… concerned.) "You know what? Today's the kind of a day when I need ice cream. The frown on your face says that you've got that kind of a day, too."

Peter seemed eager. But bit his lip. "The bullies… They stole my lunch money."

"My treat", Tony announced immediately. "In case you haven't heard, I've got a few dollars to spare." If there was one thing he'd ever been good at, it was spending money.

Peter still seemed hesitant. "I… already owe you for that sandwich. And I don't wanna waste your time…"

Tony interrupted the boy with clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "Kid? Don't ever call ice cream a waste of time where I can hear it."

How about that, his words succeeded in coaxing something like a smile.

/

The three of them ended up having a truckload of ice cream. In the car, because the last thing Tony's public image needed was getting photographed or filmed with a bruised child. A second time. Peter didn't seem to mind. Enjoying his treat, the child looked like the happy little boy he deserved to be. That sight alone made it all worth far more than the little money it cost.

Peter's eyes were wide and full of bliss while he tried out mint-chocolate. "Mr. Stark, this is the best! I didn't even know they have this flavor."

"Great taste", Happy approved. "It's my favorite, too." The driver's tone was light but the man's eyes refused to stop straying towards the arm that was once broken.

Peter, being the sharp kid that he was, noticed. "It's all healed. And… It wasn't your fault, anyway. I was stupid, and ran to the road." There it was again. The self-deprecation.

"Kid?" Tony had to interject. "Lesson from a supposed grown-up? Sometimes when nasty stuff happens it's not anyone's fault. It just… happens. And it sucks."

Peter mulled over those words, then nodded slowly and relaxed marginally. Tony chose to count it as a win. Just then a song began to play on the radio. 'Wonderwall' from Oasis. It was an old song but the boy's eyes immediately began to shine with recognition. "May… She loved this." The child's voice held a heartbreaking amount of affection and longing. "She… She always sang this to me, especially when one of us was feeling sad."

Well. What were the adults supposed to do? Tony was singing first. Happy followed after looking at his boss like the man just obtained a second head and receiving a glare in return. Peter stared at them with some confusion and hesitation. Then began to sing as well. Eventually they were practically howling out the lyrics. "… maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me, after all, you're my wonderwall…"

Once the last notes faded Peter sighed happily. "Mr. Stark? It'd be awesome to stay here forever", the boy mused with childlike innocence and hopefulness.

Tony sighed heavily. In a matter of seconds reality came barreling through the aura of magic and serenity they'd enjoyed. "I know. But… I've gotta go back to work. And you've gotta go home, remember?" He seriously didn't want the boy's adoptive parents accusing him of kidnapping or worse.

The air around them changed immediately, all mirth and lightness fading away. Peter's reluctance was obvious when the boy gave an address. The drive there was full of heavy silence. Tony and Happy exchanged a confused look but neither asked. (Later they'd regret not asking dearly.)

Tony wasn't sure what he expected to find. Highly likely a barely standing shack at a bad part of the city, or something else straight out of a cheap TV-drama. Instead the area they headed to was a very expensive one. Full of massive houses that could easily be labeled mansions. The building nearby which they parked was the fanciest one of them all. Stood tall, brave and posh. Something about it sent a chill down Tony's spine.

Peter clearly felt the same way. The closer they got, the tenser the child became. Eventually the boy's small hand crept subconsciously closer to Tony's much bigger one, until it could've easily grabbed. The billionaire gave it a look but didn't touch. Something, most likely his own stupidity, held him back.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter's voice was so quiet that the man had to strain to hear. "Thanks, for coming today. And… For the ice cream. This… This was the best afternoon I've had in forever." The boy looked away. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

This damned kid was breaking the heart Tony wasn't supposed to have…! "What are you talking about? I ended up getting ice cream. How's that bothering me?" He nudged the visibly uncertain and fidgety child gently with his elbow. "Maybe we can have Shawarma next time you feel like you wanna call."

Peter looked at him with genuine curiosity. "Sah… What's that?"

"Something awesome I'm not planning on letting you miss out on." Tony needed to at least try keeping things light, right? He couldn't understand why it was so hard to leave. He was dropping the kid off to a safe place, right? "Take care. And don't let those idiots at school bring you down."

Peter gave him a tiny, frail smile. Even managed to nod bravely. "I won't." The boy glanced towards the mansion and swallowed thickly, then looked back at him. "Bye, Mr. Stark. And thanks, for everything." With that the boy left the vehicle and fought visibly to not turn back.

Behind the wheel Happy shifted with discomfort. "So… Home?"

Tony frowned, still focused on the child's distancing back. Something just wasn't sitting right with him. "Not yet."

The moment Peter could be seen through a window a man appeared to the mansion's porch. From magazine covers and far too many parties he hated Tony recognized him as Thaddeus Ross. A former soldier, current politician. Strict, ruthless, humorless, powerful. And, apparently, Peter's adoptive father.

The look on Ross' face wasn't that of parental worry, however. The man was very obviously furious. As soon as Peter was close enough the politician grabbed the boy's arm harshly, snapped a few words and dragged the child inside. Tony couldn't help noticing that the man's hand fit the bruise he'd seen on Peter's wrist chillingly well.

"What the hell was that?" Happy sputtered.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed. Unpleasant squirming made itself known in his stomach. "I have no idea." And he hated not knowing.

/

His second bizarre meeting with Peter was still heavy on Tony's mind the next day, while stood on the Stark Tower's highest balcony. He'd just closed a multi-million dollar deal. He should've been celebrating. Instead he couldn't get the battered child out of his mind.

Pepper, of course, noticed. She gave him half an hour before joining him. "You're thinking about Peter again, aren't you?"

Tony didn't know why he felt the need to lie to and hide from the one who knew him best. But he tried nonetheless. "Nah. Just… Needed some fresh air." He lifted a glass of gin for her to see, some infuriating part of him itching to pick up a fight so he wouldn't have to think about Peter. "And this."

Pepper sighed heavily while her shoulders slumped. It pained him physically to see how he'd just delivered his about a millionth emotional blow at her. Why did she still care? Why did she still keep trying? "Tony… Don't do this to yourself. Don't shut him out." She didn't say 'like you shut me out' but might as well have. "It's terrifying to care. And painful. Trust me, I know." (He'd given her great many lessons, hadn't he?) "But it's also worth it. Makes you feel like you're alive. So keep trying, for both your sakes." With those words she turned and began to walk away.

Tony stared at her distancing back. "Pep?" He handed the alcohol towards her. "I… guess I didn't need this, after all." It was the best 'I'm sorry', 'Thank you', 'I wish I could take it all back' and 'I still love you' he could manage.

Pepper seemed to understand, if the softening of her eyes was any indication. Her fingers gave his a brief, ghost-like brush before she retreated inside with the drink. For a while he just stood there and breathed. Then he steeled himself and called the social services. "Hey, this is Tony Stark. There's this kid I'm worried about…"

(Some months later Tony would be harshly reminded that the road to hell is often paved with good intentions.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy… Adopted by Ross. How much worse of a luck can one have? (winces) Poor, poor Peter! It sounds like things have to get worse before they can, hopefully, get better. Keep fighting for the kid, Tony!  
> SOOOOO… Thoughts? Comments? PLEASE, do let me know! Hearing from you is always a day's highlight. Just saying… (whistles innocently)  
> Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care, of yourselves and all the Peters of this world!


	3. No Good Deed…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony meets Peter again on a very sad day. And things start to slide from bad to so much worse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Thursday! Which means that it's updating time. Anyone excited? A little scared? Good! So am I…  
> THANK YOU, so, so much, for your absolutely amazing comments, kudoses and love! They ALWAYS make my day. (BEAMS, and hugs)  
> SOOOO… Are you ready? I hope so, because it's showtime. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!  
> Observe as no good deed goes unpunished, such as trying to help a child… (winces)
> 
> (ps… TO THE READERS OF 'THURSDAYS WITH PETER'… Some of the characters' professions are the same in this story's real-life universe. Because for some of them I can only see one career-path.) (grins)

After calling the authorities Tony fully expected someone to contact him back. To ask him what, exactly, he'd seen. Weren't those people supposed to at least pretend that they were interested in making sure that Peter was safe?

Two and a half months slipped by. No one called back, even after he tried to contact the child protective services several more times. No one asked him a thing. And it occurred to Tony that he'd underestimated the power Ross had on an infuriating amount of people. It seemed that no one cared about Peter enough to fight the man who'd adopted him. The boy himself didn't call or text him again. And then even Tony's thoughts were derailed. (As they often tended to do, his head getting too busy for his own good.) The anniversary of his parents' death dawned, rainy and miserable.

For once it wasn't Happy driving as Tony approached the cemetery. He gave Pepper a brief, uncharacteristically shy look from the passenger's seat. "Thanks, for doing this." Considering everything they'd done and gone through together, it was ridiculous how hard he struggled to find the words. "I… know that we're not exactly in a great place." Fuzzy, unpleasant memories flooded in mercilessly, filling him with shame. (Why did Pepper even speak to him anymore?)

Pepper shook her head, eyes on the road. "Don't. Just… Just drop that, alright?" She inhaled a sharp breath. "You've hurt me, badly. There's no sugarcoating it. I'm… still dealing with it. But… You're not a bad guy. So I'm not giving up on you. And you need me today."

Tony didn't know what to say. A simple 'thank you' definitely wouldn't have been good enough. For once in his life he didn't want to ruin things with spewing out the wrong thing. So he placed his hand on top of Pepper's tenderly, the gesture almost like asking for a permission.

Pepper shivered. "Stop distracting me when I'm driving", she admonished cheekily, and it reminded him of their second official date. One corner of her lips twitched.

Tony couldn't quite grin. But the weight that'd been sitting in the pit of his stomach eased slightly. He leaned his head against Pepper's shoulder.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're bad at following orders?" Pepper groaned.

"Believe it or not, but I hear that all the time", Tony admitted with the kind of a smirk he hadn't expected to find today, while ghosts haunted his mind.

It was as awful as it always was. Tony stared at his mom's name on the stone, then shifted his attention to his dad's name although his eyes were so blurry that he could barely see. He lay down a bouquet of flowers and a couple of candles. In those moments he felt exactly like the fourteen-year-old who watched his parents being buried. He was the boy who felt like he was drowning while people he didn't even know flooded him with unwanted fake-sympathy and platitudes. (Couldn't they understand that all he wanted was his parents?)

/

/ The large hand on his shoulder felt unnaturally heavy. Seemed to push him down. "Don't worry, Tony. You're not alone in this." The teenager wondered with as much shame as bitterness if the adult's tone would've held as much genuine sympathy if the man knew what his last words to his parents were. He probably would've deserved to be all alone. He probably would've deserved to drown into the sea of darkness inside his head. /

/

But Tony didn't drown. He still wasn't drowning. Even if it felt like it. Pepper's hand grabbing his was the best anchor he could imagine. "All good?" she inquired softly.

"All good", Tony confirmed. Of course everything wasn't alright. But he felt a great deal better than he'd expected on this day. He considered it a victory.

Tony was deep in thought until he felt Pepper jolt. She gasped before he got the chance to ask what was wrong. "Tony…"

Tony's eyes wandered to see what she was staring at. He felt his heart, which apparently did exist because it ached, skip a beat. Barely within sight another grave had a young visitor. A boy sat in front of the dirt and stone, shivering from cold and something else while rain continued to pour down. "Peter?" he breathed out. He'd had a nasty feeling that he'd never see the boy again. And now, in the worst place possible, on the worst day imaginable…

Beside him Pepper appeared as shocked as he felt. Neither wanted to talk so they approached the child in a silence. Peter jolted from alarm when the boy finally noticed them and didn't relax even after recognition dawned. "M-Mr. Stark?" the child mumbled, slurring from how badly his teeth chattered.

Tony forced a small smile and hoped that it was comforting. "Hey, kid." He nodded towards the tombstone, which held two names. Benjamin and May Parker. "Did you come to visit your aunt?" He noticed with a twinge of inexplainable sorrow that it was the anniversary of her death. So many ghosts on the move today…, he mused.

"Uh huh. And uncle Ben, too." Peter bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. "I… come and talk to them, when I feel lonely. Or sad. Or just… bad."

Tony nodded. Because yet again he didn't quite know what to say. Eventually he cleared his throat and nodded towards Pepper, when he noticed that Peter cast subtle, wary glances towards her. "That, would be Pepper Potts. My favorite girl. And a way better driver than Happy, which is why I'm glad that she came here with me today." He winced. "Don't tell Happy I said that."

Peter almost smiled. Almost. There was a shy look on his face. "Hi, Miss Potts."

Pepper's warm smile seemed to soothe the child more than anything else. "Hi, Peter. I've heard so much about you from Tony that it's great to finally meet you."

Peter's eyes widened marginally from surprise. "Mr. Stark… talks about me?"

"All the time", Pepper confirmed conspiratorially. "You know what he's said? That you're the smartest kid he's ever met." She leaned closer. "Between the two of us? I think you'll be smarter than he is when you grow up."

The praise made Peter's cheeks flush and eyes shine.

"You two had better not be whispering about me", Tony warned, his tone so clearly joking that even the kid wouldn't be able to take it the wrong way. The newfound calmness made him bolder than he should've been. "How did you get here, anyway?" It was a long way from the boy's school and home. And he wasn't willing to bet money that Ross would've offered a ride.

Peter focused on the tombstone, embarrassed. "I walked", the child admitted, adamantly refusing to look at him. "I… I know that it's stupid. And Mr. Ross… He's gonna be so mad when I come home late, again. But I had to… Needed to…" It was like a dam had been broken. All self-control was lost and Peter shattered, surrendered to wrenching sobs that sounded like howls.

Tony wasn't a fan of physical contact. And something told him that Peter might not take it well anymore, either. But some force inside him urged him to proceed, anyway. Because those horrible, desperate cries… He couldn't stand listening to them anymore. So he did the last thing even he would've known to expect. He pulled Peter to a cautious, probably hilariously awkward but tender embrace. Did his best to offer the boy the comfort the child had been without for so very long.

At first Peter tensed up, even struggled. The kid's breath hitched while the boy fought a war to convince himself that he wasn't under attack. And then… Peter melted. Either accepting his gesture or simply running out of steam to fight. The boy didn't have the will or strength to hold on to him while the child continued to cry. Until, without any warning, Peter slumped. It startled Tony senseless before he realized that there was nothing physically wrong. The boy just passed out, overwhelmed by the emotional turmoil.

Pepper seemed shaken while she stared at them, wide-eyed. "Is he… Is he okay?"

Tony settled for shaking his head. It took a full minute before he trusted his voice. (And the entire time he kept cradling the boy against him, unable to quite understand why even the thought of letting go sickened him.) "Let's just get him home." It was the last thing he wanted to do. But he couldn't exactly kidnap a child. And maybe seeing Ross would give him answers… or something, anything. This was all so frustrating that he wanted to pull his hair. Instead he kept holding on to Peter, while he still could, and got up with the boy in his arms. The sleeping kid, who weighed next to nothing, snuggled closer to him. At least the child's subconscious side still tried to seek comfort.

The thought made him feel marginally better. Until Pepper's shocked voice whispered. "Jesus…! Tony, look."

He did. And instantly wished he hadn't. In the process of getting picked up Peter's shirt and coat had shifted, revealing a sliver of the child's back. It was marred by red and fresh, angry lash-marks. The billionaire felt his blood boil.

Both he and Pepper jumped and Peter whimpered but didn't stir when the boy's phone started ringing. After a moment's hesitation Pepper placed the item to his ear. "Stark."

"Why am I not surprised that you're with him again?" Thaddeus Ross hissed. Like a snake about to attack. "Bring him home, right now. Or I'll tell the police that you've kidnapped him."

Tony tasted bile. His eyes narrowed and only the feel of Peter pressed against him kept him from roaring. "So you expect me to bring him to a home where he's abused?" he growled.

"How do you know that whatever you think you've seen or heard hasn't happened at school?" Ross sounded sickeningly smug. "It's your word against mine. No one's believed your outrageous lies thus far. What makes you think that anyone would believe you now? And do you really want to have Peter interrogated by the police?"

Tony had no witty response to that.

"Bring him home. Or the police will. You have fifteen minutes to decide. And you'd better give my son his phone back." With those words Ross hung up.

/

Peter had an amazing dream. He was held in safe arms, and he was being taken to someplace safe. He felt safe, for the first time in forever. He'd had such a dream a million times before but somehow this one felt so real that he almost believed it to be true. Before he woke up, just like he always did. He opened his eyes. And saw Ross' mansion approaching.

The onslaught of shock, pain and disappointment… It was too much, after such a lovely dream. Before Peter realized what he was doing be was screaming.

/

Peter's screams… They were more horrible than anything else so far. The sheer terror, the betrayal… Tony had to close his eyes to keep the infuriating moisture gathering to them from being seen. "Pete, shh… Shh… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…!" For failing you, for having to bring you back, for not being able to prove what's happening to you yet. "But I'll come up with something, I promise. You'll get out of there. Just stay strong and brave a little longer."

Peter kept sobbing so loudly that it was impossible to tell if the boy heard him. But, like a battle-worn soldier used to fate letting him down, the child accepted the verdict. With stiff legs the boy climbed out of the car and began to make his way towards the mansion that oozed threat. Tony followed and wished that Peter knew to take it as a sign of unconditional support. Ross appeared instantly, making them both tense up.

Ross nodded. "Good. I knew that you'd do the right thing."

Tony snorted bitterly. "Do the right thing? I'd rather call this being blackmailed."

"Mr. Ross, please…!" Peter's eyes were yet again full of fear that should've never, ever had a place in them. But the horror wasn't for the child himself. "Mr. Stark… He hasn't done anything. Don't get him into a trouble…"

Ross glared at Peter in a way that gave even Tony chills. "The adults are talking", the man hissed. "Be quiet. We'll discuss your punishment later. Is that understood?"

Peter could only nod, gaze falling with more tears while horrible numbness reigned over fear and pain.

Ross seemed satisfied with having silenced the child. The man's eyes were colder than ice and full of threat when they met the billionaire's. "I understand that when it comes to business deals we don't see eye to eye. What I don't approve of is you sending the social services on me." The man's jawline clenched. "Did you really imagine that I wouldn't find out that it was your doing? That I wouldn't find out that you've been whispering in Peter's ear to ruin my life? I have more friends in high places than you imagine."

It wasn't much of a secret that Tony had a temper. At those words it flared, to a point where he had to use all his willpower to keep himself from doing something stupid. "You're the one beating up a child", he hissed. "Which one of us has a problem?"

Ross gritted his teeth. "Try to tarnish my reputation one more time… and you do. If you ever try to approach me or my family again I'll have you sued for defamation. Also, I urge you to give this a thought." The former soldier's eyes flashed. "How do you imagine it looks that a strange man picks up a little boy for a joyride without his parents' consent, several times? And bribes the child with ice cream? You… have no idea how bad I can make you look."

Tony was so overwhelmed by rage that he couldn't produce a word.

He didn't feel any better when satisfaction filled Ross' eyes. "You have no business contacting Peter. And from this moment on I'll make sure that you'll never get the chance to talk to him or see him again. Unless you want to be charged with harassing a minor. What do you reckon that'd do to your public image?" With those words the man walked away, dragging Peter behind him towards the mansion.

Tony glared at the man's distancing back and couldn't understand the dread that was growing constantly inside him. His attention shifting to Peter didn't help with the anxiety at all. The boy stared at him with wide eyes that begged for help, pale and visibly terrified. The child was too young to understand that Tony had already done everything he could within legal boundaries. Somehow the possibility that Peter saw him as a yet another person who'd failed him hurt more than the desperate gaze.

Then the house's door closed, separating them.

/

Of course there was no forgetting a day like that one. Over the next few days Tony's tension grew with each passing hour, because he'd always been good at sensing when something awful was approaching. Two more useless calls to child protective services only served to irritate his fried nerves further. Even work didn't manage to offer him the kind of a distraction he was after. For once in his life he didn't feel like touching alcohol or drugs. Something told him that whatever was coming… He'd need a sober head to navigate through it. (He told himself that he didn't make his decision because Peter needed him to have a sober head.)

The proverbial bomb he'd been dreading went off four days after his far from pleasant talk with Ross.

Tony was just working on his newest invention when a computer voice distracted him. "Sir? I was asked to report that you have two visitors."

Tony groaned. He was so close to actually getting something done for the first time in days. The last thing he needed or wanted was someone interrupting him. "Tell them to get lost", he grumbled heatedly.

"That course of action isn't an option, Sir", the computer voice responded in an infuriating monotone. "Your visitors identified themselves as police officers."

Tony's blood ran cold and whatever focus he'd managed to obtain faded away. He swallowed thickly. "What do they want?" Somewhere in the back of his mind very, very dark possibilities began to rise.

"Just a little chat. For now", a male voice announced. Two badges were revealed before he got a look at the arrivals. The red-haired female officer's face held an infuriating, unreadable look and her sharp eyes seemed to see far too much. Her partner didn't seem any less threatening, especially once the man went on. "Detectives Romanoff and Barton. We've been told that you've been in contact with a boy named Peter Ross."

Tony groaned, loudly. He was going to kill Ross for this…! "Look… I don't know what crap Ross has been feeding you. But let's make it crystal clear that he's wasting your time…"

"I don't think so." The woman's eyes sharpened still. "Because as of eight hours ago Peter Ross has been listed as a missing person."

Tony was fairly sure that what he experienced just then… It was roughly what getting shot feels like. The whole room spun and his ears buzzed while nausea swell in the pit of his stomach. It was a miracle that he got even one word out. "What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… Yeah. That DOES NOT sound good…! What has happened to poor Peter? Tony DOES seem like a suspicious character right now for those who don't have all the facts right. But let's hope that he'll be cleared of suspicion quickly so he can go looking for HIS kid. (Yeah, Tony, your kid, admit it.)  
> SOOOO… Thoughts? Comments? Rants? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you. Just… in case you didn't know… (whistles innocently)  
> Until next time! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care!
> 
> ps: R.I.P, Stan Lee! We all miss you. THANK YOU, for the amazing worlds and phenomenal, beloved characters you gave us! With them a piece of you will live on forever.


	4. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A desperate search for Peter begins. Are the people coming to the child's aid hopelessly too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, folks! After previous chapter's tingling cliffie… It's time for a Monday-update! BUT, before getting to the actual business…  
> THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your reviews, listings and love! It makes me happier than you know that so many of you adore Peter as much as I do. (BEAMS, and hugs)  
> Okay… I hope you're ready. Because… Here we go! Brace yourselves. (gulps) I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the journey, despite turbulence…

It wasn't like Tony had never been in a trouble with the law before. But this time he'd done nothing wrong. Hell, if anything he'd tried his damned hardest to do the right thing, for once in his life. And he wanted to be looking for a missing child instead of answering to pointless questions. He gestured heatedly towards the security cameras watching the three of them. "See those things? Whatever sick crap you imagine I've done… The footage should be enough of an alibi, right?" He barreled on without giving the detectives the chance to interject. "I'd never, ever hurt any child! Got that? But someone's been hurting that kid for a long time, now! I've been…" He nearly choked on his words. "I've tried to contact the social services, over and over again, but no one cares! No one's doing anything! No one's trying to help Peter! Even you're wasting time on…"

There was a quick, fleeting glance between the two officers of the law. A silent agreement. It was Barton who interrupted the billionaire's tirade. "That I'm about to give you all this confidential information won't leave this room. Ever. We clear?" The man went on at Tony's tense nod. "The police found out about your concerns just hours ago. There are people investigating how that's possible right now. It's pretty clear that there's been a criminal level of neglect, from several people. And we'll have to talk to Ross and his wife. He'll be back from a business trip soon."

That… was a surprise. So Ross wasn't responsible for Peter's disappearance? Then who was? Tony wanted to ask, so badly that it burned his tongue. But he already knew way more than he should've. Instead he settled for what was really important at the moment. "We've gotta find Peter." For once he didn't care about how desperate he sounded. Finding the kid was far more important than his ego. (A lot of people wouldn't have been able to imagine him even thinking that way.)

Both detectives nodded in agreement. "We have several units and volunteers looking for him. Officially, we've been told to keep you from… meddling." Ross had reached his tentacles everywhere, after all. "Unofficially… We need every pair of hands and eyes we can get."

When Pepper and Happy appeared roughly ten minutes later, reacting to Tony's far from coherent message, they found him picking up the pieces of a project he'd thrown at a wall. His hands were trembling and he was unfortunately sober. And he couldn't quite convince himself that this was all just a nightmare. Neither of the arrivals commented the mess. "AMBER Alert has been made of Peter", Pepper announced instead, her voice carrying an echo of the fear and worry he tried to tell himself he didn't feel. "And there's a massive amount of people looking for him. I'll make sure that they have all the supplies and other resources they need."

Tony wanted to kiss her, badly. And more than anything he would've wanted a hug, because he felt like he was about to combust or fall apart. Instead he nodded stiffly before focusing on Happy. "Let's go", he commanded gruffly.

Happy had obviously expected as much and complied without a word, falling into step with him. They both faltered when Pepper's hand grabbed the billionaire's as he passed by, giving it a brief squeeze that said more than a million words. It helped Tony regain some much-needed clarity and strength.

Happy was uncharacteristically quiet until they made it to the elevator. There the driver could no longer contain himself. "We'll… We'll find that kid, right?" True, Happy hadn't been blessed with much of paternal instincts. But Peter… was special, briefly as the two had met.

Tony swallowed thickly. He wanted a drink so badly that it wasn't even funny. Or a paper-bag he could've used for breathing or throwing up. Because he had no idea if a panic attack or vomit would come first. He'd always been a phenomenal liar. (His father told him so several times.) But this time he couldn't manage it. "I really hope so." Because the thought of losing someone as young and innocent as Peter… It wasn't such he could stand.

/

Entering Ross' mansion through a door that someone had left open was a truly chilling experience. The house held a haunted atmosphere, which wasn't helped by the clinical and minimalistic, military style decoration. Usually a person's home reflects their personality. That particular house was a blank canvas. Closer to a military base than a home where people lived, loved and relaxed. To Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff the most unsettling part was that they couldn't spot a trace of a child living there. It seemed like Peter was considered a yet another part of the furniture. How could an eight-year-old become invisible?

"May I help you?" Both officers shivered at the new voice, even if they'd sensed a presence. A woman with long, brown hair was watching them with clearly visible suspicion.

They showed their badged and introduced themselves. "Someone had left the door open."

That obviously displeased the woman. She was quick to pull the door closed sharply. "This… has been a stressful day." Well, that was one word to choose…

"And you are…?" Natasha inquired, because the woman clearly wasn't Thaddeus' wife yet moved around like she owned the place.

"Maya Hansen. Personal assistant." Whatever that title might entail was anyone's guess.

"What do you know about Peter's disappearance?" Clint demanded. Something crawled unpleasantly under his skin. A hunch, a nasty suspicion.

Maya gave them both a piercing look. "That I have nothing to do with it. Peter was upset about something this morning. I left to take care of errands. When I came back Mrs. Ross sat on the porch. She was hysterical, kept saying that 'Peter is gone' and 'They took Peter'. I called Mr. Ross, then the police." She folded her arms. "I understand that you're only doing your job. But Mrs. Ross is sleeping and I won't allow anyone disturbing her. And Mr. Ross isn't home yet. So I'm asking you to…"

"You know what?" Clint gave Maya a predatory smile. "There's plenty we can do before we get the chance to talk to them. Why don't you show me to Peter's room?"

Maya seemed reluctant but also knew that she had no choice. This was an official police investigation, after all. She nodded tensely, then aimed a mistrustful look at Natasha when the redhead didn't follow.

"I'm taking a look around. If that's alright." The feigned sweet look on Natasha's face made it adamantly clear that 'it's alright' was the only acceptable answer.

Ignoring the glare ghosting her, Natasha got to work. Nothing, aside the never-ending bleakness of the house, really caught her attention. Until she saw stairs leading to a basement. One hand sliding subconsciously towards her service firearm, she advanced towards the space that was even more off-putting than the rest of the house.

Natasha headed downwards. One stair at a time, each step making her feel more like she was in a horror movie. In the end she found a small, narrow hallway. Along with a single slightly ajar door, made of heavy wood. Her hand tightened around the gun's handle and her stomach knotted from dread while she peered inside.

There was no one in the room. And really, it was hard to imagine that anyone ever had been. Because aside a thin mattress and a single teddy bear, forgotten to the floor, there was nothing inside. But one didn't need to be a cop to see the evidence pointing towards a startling truth.

The dust on the floor was marred by two sets of footsteps, one belonging to an adult and the other to a child, and droplets of dried blood accompanied them.

/

Ned Leeds was genuinely startled when two police officers came to ask if he knew where Peter was. One of them, a kindly smiling man in a suit who introduced himself as Coulson, he could handle. The other one, bald, one-eyed and grim-faced – quite conveniently called Fury – had the boy on the edge.

"Kid… If you know where Peter is, if you have any idea… You've gotta tell us." Coulson's tone was firm and gentle at the same time. Like that of a parent. "You're not in any trouble. But everyone's worried about Peter and we need to find him, so we can bring him back home."

Ned shook his head before he'd even realized that he wanted to do so. "I… I have no idea, Sir", he sputtered. "And, even if I did… You shouldn't bring him back home. I don't know what goes on there, but… He's not safe at home."

Both men stared at him. It was Fury who found his voice first. "You'd better clear out that one."

Now that the dam had been broken… Ned found the words flying out. He told the officers about the bruises his best friend tried to hide, those that couldn't be made by bullies. He told them how much Peter always hated going home, despite never admitting it. He even told them about that one time when his friend fell asleep during a class and woke up screaming, which made everyone – even the teacher – laugh at him. Ned told them everything, all those horrible things he was too young to understand properly. "I… I told a lot of adults. So did Pete. Mom… She tried to contact important people, too. But… No one did a thing. Why wasn't anyone doing anything?" To the child that was the most baffling part. Why hadn't anyone done a thing to help?

The men had no answer for him.

Later Ned sat on the couch, his mom's comforting arm wrapped around him. Their intention was to watch something that'd take the boy's mind off of his missing friend, at least for a moment. It wasn't working.

"Mom?" Ned murmured eventually. "Can I go to my room?"

His mom kissed his head. "Of course, sweetie. I'll start fixing something for dinner."

Ned definitely wasn't hungry but nodded anyhow. As soon as he made it to his room he pulled out his phone and dialed. He wasn't surprised when only an answering machine picked up. The Ross' probably took his friend's phone away. "Hey, Pete." He swallowed thickly, tears stinging as they filled his eyes. "I… I don't know when you'll hear this. Just… Just stay safe, yeah? And… Come back. Please, just…" He wiped his eyes with a fist. "Just be safe, and come back."

/

Seeing Peter's room filled Clint with immense sadness. The boy had a ridiculously large pile of clothes and a shiny new schoolbag. The room contained everything and anything it took to show the world that the child came from a wealthy family. But there were hardly any toys. The only pieces of furniture Ross had bothered to buy were a narrow bed, a desk and a book shelve. The… emptiness, the lack of anything showing any emotional attachment, was heartbreaking.

"I know that this is no way to raise a child", Maya admitted quietly, her shoulders slumping while she showed her true self for the first time. She refused to meet his eyes. "I've tried to tell them."

Clint clenched his jaw. Keeping his temper in check turned out to be a challenge he barely won. "Why didn't you do anything?" he growled. Memories of his own past stirred mercilessly, made him feel sick to his stomach.

Maya pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was eighteen when I found the only person who has ever believed in me. The only one who recognized how gifted I am." Picturing Ross in such a role was surreal. "He gave me a funding, later a job. If it wasn't for him… I don't know where I'd be. I owe him."

Clint felt no sympathy. His eyes were cold and hard when he glared at the woman who was indirectly revealing what he'd already suspected. "And because of that supposed debt you're willing to turn a blind eye on child abuse?"

Maya finally met his gaze, hers full of defeat, frustration and self-hatred she'd bottle up for years. And she gave him the final proof. "I've been working for him since I was eighteen. Do you really imagine that not getting Peter help is the worst thing I've ever done?"

Clint took a step closer. Lava burned in his veins. "You've seen more clearly than anyone what Peter's been going through. Whatever happened to him today… It's as much on you as on them. So where is he?"

Before Maya got another word out of her mouth a man's voice boomed. "Leave Maya alone!" Ross sounded positively livid. Which might just be the perfect mood to get him talking. "She has nothing to do with this. You have no right to…!"

Clint interrupted the politician with showing the man his badge and a warrant. "It's my duty to do everything necessary to find your missing son." He put deliberate weight on the final words. "Upon reporting the disappearance Miss Hansen stated that it's possible Peter chose to run away. So investigating his home and family is an essential part of the investigation."

Ross' eyes blazed hellfire. "What are you doing here, harassing us?" the man roared. "Why aren't you arresting and interrogating Stark? He's the one who'd been harassing my family! He has Peter!"

"He doesn't. Or… I don't think he does." All of a sudden the whisper-light voice was the loudest thing in the whole room. At the doorway stood Karen Ross, Thaddeus' wife. There was a glazed over, wild look in her blue eyes. Everyone present could smell the reek of alcohol floating around her. The detective was willing to bet that it wasn't the only substance she'd taken that day. Tears ran down her pale cheeks while she ran a restless hand through her long, disheveled dark hair. "Stark… He's been trying to take Peter away from us. You told me so, Thaddeus. We can't lose him, like we lost Betty. I… I tried to make sure that we wouldn't lose him."

Even Thaddeus appeared shaken while her words sunk in. "Karen? What the hell have you done?"

She smiled almost serenely. The façade of calm broke when she burst into hysterical giggles and pressed a hand to her mouth to stop the sound. "I went to a walk with him. I know that he was grounded, but… He was sad, and I wanted to make him feel better. So we went out, just the two of us." Her breath hitched. "And that… That ungrateful boy… He started saying all these terrible things about you, about us…" Her voice broke and some tears rolled. "He said that… That he doesn't want to live with us anymore. He begged me to help him, to let him go. I…" She shook her head and frowned, like someone trying to remember a movie they'd seen a long time ago. "I pushed him, and he fell… Down and down… He got so very quiet. He… He must've been upset because he was tired. So… I decided to let him get some sleep, there at the park. It was such a lovely, sunny morning. Everything always feels better in sunlight. Betty always settled down after sleeping in sunlight." The woman's eyes glazed over. "I… I must've fallen asleep, too." More likely was that she passed out. "And… When I woke up… He'd left." Finally she broke down. Collapsed to the floor, a trembling hand reaching out for her husband. "I… I tried to stop him from leaving us! I swear! But… But he left, they took him away. Just like Betty. I'm sorry, I'm sorry…! I'm so sorry…!"

The shock and rage which colored Ross' face… They seemed to nearly bring the former soldier to his knees, too. Clint felt no sympathy for the man while his whole body turned cold. So Peter was somewhere out there all alone, highly likely injured. The boy had already been out there for hours. "Karen." His voice was sharper than a whip. He didn't regret it. "Where did you fall asleep? Where is Peter?"

Karen shook her head. Once, twice, thrice. "I don't know", she choked out, hysterical by then. "I don't know… I don't know… I just don't know…"

/

As much as Tony would've liked to barge into the Ross' mansion, he knew that it was a bad idea. Especially since the police was already there. So he settled for scouting the surrounding area with Happy. Which proved to be a possibly hopeless task. Exhaustion didn't help him feel any better. He couldn't quite remember how long ago he last slept properly. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop looking until he'd found Peter. So he pushed himself forward, with absolutely all his stubbornness and determination.

It had long since started to rain when something finally happened. Years and years later, Tony still had no idea what made him stop all of a sudden. He and Happy were walking down a small road when he saw a park. And something that couldn't be explained with words caught a hold of him.

"Boss?" Happy inquired, understandably confused, but he wasn't listening.

There were no other people around. Which wasn't a surprise, considering the weather. Besides, that particular park didn't look like the kind of a place where a lot of sane people felt comfortable with spending time. Even the billionaire hesitated before stepping forward and he was glad he wasn't alone.

He must've kept searching for over half an hour. All he managed to find was trees and pigeons, along with a man who lay on a bench and growled at him, drunk out of his wits. Tony already shook his head, deciding that he was an idiot. Or perhaps desperate. Until he saw something from the corner of his eye. Chills went through his whole body while he turned around fully.

There was a bench nearby that had blood-stains on it. When he took about fifteen unsteady steps forward, following the same hunch he'd listened to earlier, he made it around a corner and found a huge pond. The ground surrounding it was muddy and slippery, and prints the weather hadn't managed to wash away showed that someone had staggered before slipping. And there, in the water… The world spun hazardously around Tony.

The child floated, abandoned and forgotten. Peter's familiar coat was what the billionaire registered first. Then he took in the practically colorless face, marked by a gash on the boy's temple, and the bluish lips.

No, NO…! Please, no…!, his mind screamed.

"Peter?" Tony was so choked up that his voice was barely audible. Funny what panic does to a person… (Because what decent human being wouldn't have panicked in that situation?) The bundle in the water didn't even twitch. The billionaire was running long before he succeeded in crying out again. "PETER!"

Peter still didn't move, let alone speak. The boy just floated there, face towards the miserably rainy sky. Like some sort a doll that'd been tossed away, like a former favorite toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You SO want my head right now, don't you? (winces) Let's… just focus on hating the Ross-couple, yeah? I'll just… make a hasty retreat to someplace safe. (clears throat)  
> I have a feeling that you may have something to say after this one, soooooo… Bring it! Thoughts? Comments? Rants? PLEASE, do let me know! Hearing from you is one of my favorite things about writing stories.  
> Until next time! (Don't worry, Thursday will come soon.) I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care, and unlike too many people in this stories, look out for the Peters of the world!


	5. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has been found. But did help arrive too late? In the middle of the emotional turmoil Tony finds it hard to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Is everyone still okay after the previous chapter? I hope so. Because it's time for another update.  
> DAAAAANG! You guys have SERIOUSLY found this story. (BEAMS) THANK YOU, so, so much, for all your comments, kudoses, love and support! You have NO IDEA how much they mean to me. (HUGS)  
> Okay, because I left you on a MEAN cliffie… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

The noise was deafening while Peter's search party gathered to a street and started a loud argument over where to look next. They were all getting tired and frustrated. Tempers threatened to boil over. The fact that the one they were looking for was a child didn't improve matters. Nor did the still continuing rain.

All of a sudden it got really, really quiet. As though someone had flicked a switch. The last ones still screaming over each other took a few moments to catch on. When they did they frowned, then faced the same direction everyone was staring at.

The first one they saw was a man a couple of tabloids had introduced as Happy Hogan. He was talking to a phone in a frantic tone. 'Hypothermia' was one of the words which made sense from afar. The second man, although drenched all the way to his bones, was even more recognizable. Despite the billionaire's usual grin having been transformed into what wasn't far from a pained grimace. Everyone's attention was, however, quick to lock on what Tony had in his arms.

Peter was utterly unmoving. Soon everyone saw the blue lips. There didn't seem to be a hint of life in the child.

"Oh… my god…!" someone gasped. "Is… Is he…?" The sounds of approaching sirens drowned out the final word. Along with whatever response someone might've mustered.

/

Tony didn't even notice the audience. All he could concentrate on was the child he was holding. He tightened his grasp when the paramedics rushed closer despite knowing, according to all reason, that they were trying to help.

The voice of the female paramedic seemed to come through fog. "… pulse …?"

Tony shook his head. Then gasped and tried again when his voice got stuck somewhere close to his throat. "Don't know… He's so cold, I don't… I don't know…" He trailed off.

Everything was moving too fast. Those strangers in uniforms were crowding his personal space, getting way too close, way too quickly, faster than his muddled brain could follow. Which was bad enough to make him feel like someone had been stomping on his chest, repeatedly, preventing flow of oxygen. Worse… Worse was when they were suddenly taking Peter away from him.

Now, Tony wasn't an affectionate or especially emotional person by nature. (Pepper would've happily affirmed that.) He grinned, spewed bad jokes at lightning speed, put on a show worthy of an Oscar. But when it came to real, genuine, serious feelings… He was pure garbage. He was good at making people feel like they were his friends but he never, ever let anyone under his skin. (Too many losses, too much past ache, too many human-shaped leeches snatching and smashing a piece of his heart.) By the time he finally tried to let Pepper close he'd kept his heart of iron locked for so long that he didn't know how to open it. It cost him, and her. Since then he hadn't bothered trying.

Yet now, now…

The last time Tony let Peter slip from his arms it led to this. The time before that led to Ross. What if this was another mistake? "I'm going with him", he managed. He needed to make sure…

The sharp eyes of a paramedic were immediately on him. "Are you a family member?"

Something inside Tony ached and slumped. Which, as was natural to him, transformed into anger. "His so-called family is what did this to him!" he snarled. "He doesn't…!" His voice broke, there, and he wasn't quite sure why. "He doesn't have anyone!"

All of a sudden Tony remembered something with startling clarity. Himself, right after his parents died. All alone in the world. He was fourteen back then. Peter, he was only eight…!

"Hey." Happy's hand landing on his shoulder made him shudder. The man's uncharacteristically somber eyes held sympathy. "I get you. But you've gotta breathe, okay?"

Tony hadn't realized that he hadn't pulled in a proper breath until he started to feel dizzy. The weight sitting on his chest… It was excruciating. He couldn't breathe… Couldn't think… Couldn't…

"… breathe …" Where did Pepper come from? The familiar arms wrapping around him made him shiver. Which made the hold tighten. "… shh, you can… breathe …"

Tony nearly succeeded in the impossible. Until his head moved. Just enough to show him a view of Peter inside the ambulance. Medical professionals were working their hardest to keep the child alive, to bring the boy back to life. When the vehicle's doors closed a horrible, keening sound filled the air. (It wasn't until years later Tony learned that it came from him.)

Pepper's firm but gentle hand turned his head when the ambulance began to drive away. Her hands were on both sides of his face until she was all he could see. Her eyes were full of love he should've lost a long time ago. "Don't look", she whispered. Or shouted, he wouldn't have known the difference. "Breathe. Don't look."

Tony did something he hadn't done even nearly enough. He listened to her, partially because he couldn't breathe and she was the only thing keeping him clinging to what little was left of his sanity. He didn't look, couldn't stand the sight of Peter being taken away from him again. He had no idea of the tears spilling down his cheeks.

With Pepper's safe hands on his face, he could almost inhale properly again. He could almost convince himself that he was being an idiot, over-reacting like this. (Hadn't his father always told him how ridiculous emotional outbursts like this were? Howard Stark would've been appalled if he saw his son now. For some reason, even in that horrible moment, that silly little thought gave the billionaire a hint of satisfaction.) In the tender hold of his ex-girlfriend Tony could almost forget how the sickeningly light weight of a dead or dying child felt in his arms.

When he could finally choke something like a gasp, Pepper went on. Her voice was the comfortingly familiar iron-stern but tender one. Her eyes, the ones that succeeded in keeping him afloat, never left his. "Here's what we do." She continued when she could be sure that she had his attention, when she saw that she'd snatched him at least halfway back from the ghosts and monsters inside his head. "You'll put on dry clothes." (Were wet clothes a small part of why he was trembling?) "Then we'll go to the hospital. They probably won't tell us anything but I don't think you'd feel comfortable anywhere else right now. But first Happy's gonna get us all big mugs of coffee." Whatever she saw in his eyes made her brush his cheek with her fingers, like she always did, once upon a time. "We'll help Peter. But first we need coffee." She could obviously sense how much he craved for something stronger.

Tony stared at her. And at that moment he realized that he needed something even more than coffee. Something he wasn't sure he had the right to ask for anymore.

Not giving himself the chance to really think about what he was doing, because when did he ever, he pulled Pepper to a hug. Wrapped his arms around her and held her close, like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning. Maybe she was.

Pepper had every right to push him away. But instead she held him back every bit as tightly. (Much later, she revealed that she was scared to death that if they'd lose Peter, she'd lose him as well.) Neither of them cared about all the people ogling at them.

/

Ross' mansion looked even more uninviting and miserable with a crime scene unit investigating it. Standing outside in pouring rain, Natasha seemed like an angel of vengeance while she glared at the building. Outside the mansion's gates a swarm of reporters and cameras continued to grow. By then a high-profile politician turning out to be a child abuser was massive news. All those people, thirsty for the perfect scoop, made her feel almost as sick to her stomach as what had happened inside the mansion in front of her.

Thaddeus Ross had been arrested, suspected of multiple crimes ranging from child abuse to bribery. Soon he'd be free on bail, of course, but at lest he might finally face justice. Karen Ross, as it turned out, was a far more complicated story. Apparently she'd been struggling with mental issues for a long time. She'd been far too unstable to adopt yet somehow her husband's money and political influence helped her slip through the cracks. After admitting to what little she remembered of what happened to Peter she became so hysterical that she had to be sedated. She'd face a psychological evaluation as soon as she was stable enough. The pair had been caught. There was finally enough evidence to ensure that they'd never hurt anyone else again. But at what price did that victory come? Peter might not make it. If the boy did survive, he'd face a future of uncertainty and another new home. There was also the mystery of Betty Ross to crack, because Ross' lawyers were doing everything possible to make investigating the necessary data difficult.

Natasha sensed a presence seconds before she heard the arrival. She didn't need to turn her head to recognize the steps approaching her. "Fury or Coulson?"

"Coulson." Clint's eyes were darker than the sky above them. The memories this case brought back to her best friend clearly had him reeling. "Ned, Peter's best friend, and his mom… had some pretty interesting stuff to tell."

Natasha would've wanted to ask but didn't get the chance to. Because just then commotion caught their attention. A woman with long, brown hair had somehow made it to the yard area. The duo approached her instantly, bracing themselves for anything. "Hey, hey!" Clint's tone was the firm, commanding one he often used on duty. "This is a crime scene. What are you doing here?"

The brunette's whole attention was on the building. There was a glazed over look in her widened eyes. "I… used to live here." Some of the initial shock faded, rage and disgust robbing the empty spot. "I can't believe that this hasn't changed…! Do they…" She swallowed thickly, a hint of green flashing on her face. "Do they still have the 'grounded room' in the basement?"

Clint and Natasha exchanged a loudly speaking look. It was the redhead who spoke next. "Who are you?"

The brunette didn't succeed in looking away from the mansion. For almost a minute the detectives imagined that she hadn't heard the question. "I'm Betty. Betty Thompson. Or…" She wrinkled her nose and shivered without seeming to notice. "I used to be Elizabeth Ross. I came here as soon as I heard that they'd managed to adopt a child." Finally her gaze shifted, darted between the detectives. "Was I…? Don't tell me I was too late…!"

/

At the hospital time passed by torturously slowly. As Pepper had predicted, the medical staff couldn't tell Tony much of anything. Eventually Pepper had to leave to try and control the media storm Tony saving the same kid had caused. Happy also headed off to get himself and his boss some late dinner. The billionaire had an inkling feeling that the other man simply needed to get out of the hospital, just for a little while. Tony found himself all alone inside the massive waiting room.

But only for a brief moment. At the sound of steps he straightened his form and cast a pair of hopeful eyes towards the doorway. It wasn't Peter's doctor, of course, couldn't be. Instead he was face to face with his therapist James Rhodes. Tony frowned. "What are you doing here?" Well, wasn't that polite…

Rhodey didn't seem offended. "I was watching the news and saw hero-story of you saving a child's life. Figured that this might be a lousy day." Honest and straight to the point. There was a reason why the billionaire liked this therapist while he abhorred all others.

Tony nodded and focused on glaring at a dirty spot on the floor. Weren't hospitals supposed to be clean places? "Today's a bad day." He was trying his best with honesty, too. Sometimes it was a great challenge. He decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. "Did Pepper tell you where I am?" Suddenly he understood why she and Happy left quite hurriedly. Maybe he should've been mad at them but he couldn't manage that comfortingly familiar emotion anymore, not today.

"I don't reveal my sources." Rhodey's half-teasing tone helped him relax while the therapist sat down. Of course the man took him calming down as an opportunity to charge forward after a sigh. "Poor kid. Losing another home."

Tony tensed up anew. He had a very uncomfortable feeling of where this was going… "Yeah", was the most intellectual response he could come up with. For a while. He clenched his jaw, tried to lift up his walls of defense and failed. "Why, exactly, are we talking about his future?" (He wanted to believe that Peter did have a future, from the bottom of the heart he wasn't supposed to have.)

"Because after…" Rhodey checked the time. "… seven hours you're still here, waiting although you know that they won't tell you anything. It's hard to walk away from him, isn't it?"

Tony snorted. "So? He may die! When I… When I pulled him out of that water I… I think he already was dead, at least for a while. And…" He shook his head vehemently, anger finally sparking like an old friend. "Stop trying to tell me how I feel! I've only ever met that kid three times before today." And I let him down thrice.

"I know. Because you've talked about him a lot during our past couple of sessions, remember?" Rhodey gave him a moment. "I came here today because I know you pretty well by now. And I know that you're struggling today. And… I know what you'll try to do, if the kid's going to be alright. So I'm playing your Jiminy Cricket and telling you not to distance yourself from him. Because I think you need him as much as he needs you."

Tony stared at his therapist in a total disbelief. "Rhodey, I'm a wreck! What the hell would he need me for?"

Rhodey smiled sadly. "Whether you like it or not… If Peter makes it, he is going to need you. Because right now you're the most stable and trustworthy adult in his life."

After those absurd words Tony continued to stare. Then lost it, entirely. He burst into a bout of hysterical chuckles, which came dangerously close to transforming into sobs or a panic attack.

"Is… this a bad time?"

Startled, both men followed the voice with their gazes. To find a young nurse with her long, blonde hair pulled to a ponytail. She gave them a small, sly smile. "I'm Sharon, the nightshift nurse. Our other nightshift nurse had to visit another ward, and I'm about to take a break. So, if you need me over the next twenty minutes… I'll be at the nurse's station. It's right next to room 302." It was a clear message. If he wanted to visit Peter he had twenty minutes, and he'd find the boy from the mentioned room.

Tony couldn't help but smile. On a day like this it was comforting to be reminded that decent people still existed. "Good to know."

/

Tony needed to gather his courage for over five of the given twenty minutes. (The whole time Rhodey was there, offering him silent support.) He had wanted to see Peter. Honestly. So badly that it scared him a little. But when he entered the boy's room… It was like all sanity faded from his head. He stared at the heavily unconscious boy, who needed a tube and a machine to keep breathing. And the usually far too talkative man had no idea what to say.

He took a chair and sat beside the bed slowly. The unnatural noise of the machinery made him jump, as did the possibility that he might somehow cause further harm. In the end he found enough courage to risk taking the boy's hand. "I'm… not really sure if you can hear me. I hope you can, because… Sitting here, talking to myself… It'd sort of make me feel stupid." His forced light tone cracked with his voice and he cleared his throat. There was a long pause before he trusted himself enough to keep going. "Pete, I'm… I'm so sorry. That I… That I couldn't help you, that no one helped you." He focused on their joined hands, determinedly ignoring the fact that the child's was limp. "For whatever it's worth… It's over, now. You'll never, ever have to go back to that place again."

It was true, all of it. Peter would be safe. But the boy was once again homeless. Once Peter woke up, because Tony couldn't even imagine any other alternative… The child would have no place to go. Unless the professionals who'd already failed the kid several times sought out a new home. This time Tony would make sure that the professionals responsible would do their jobs, he decided with firmness that startled him.

Tony swallowed thickly, focusing on the boy's unconscious face. The child seemed almost lifeless and the sight made the billionaire feel sick. "Peter? If you… If you try, if you come back… Then I'll try, too. We'll keep fighting together." He tried to tell himself to stop. Worming his way further into the kid's life was a stupid, ridiculous and absurd idea. What point was there in getting… attached like this? There was a chance that Peter didn't want anything to do with him anymore, anyway. Still, the desire to look after this child who'd been through way too much… Even if he couldn't quite figure out how, exactly, he'd help… That protective instinct was more tempting than it should've been. "But first…" His voice faded away for a moment. "First you need to wake up and come back."

Only the machinery answered him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor babies…! Tony's all torn, wanting to help yet not quite sure if he's ready to take the plunge, and worried… And Peter… (whimpers) Let's hope that Peter will be okay!  
> SOOOO… Thoughts? Comments? PLEASE, do drop a line or two! I ALWAYS love hearing from you.
> 
> AN IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT NEXT WEEK'S UPDATES: I'll be traveling next week, so I won't be able to update like I usually do. The week's only update will come on Friday. (winces apologetically) Fret not, though! After that one week we'll return to the usual schedule.
> 
> I REALLY want to get some sleep soon, so I'd better post this. (chuckles) Until next time, and next week's Friday, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you there.  
> Take care!


	6. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Peter continues to fight for his life Tony comes to a radical, life-changing decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who returned safely from London? (A BIG 'HI!' to anyone else who might've been there this week.) And now, it's FINALLY time to update again.  
> DAAAANG…! THANK YOU, a million times over, for all your comments and listings! You have no idea how happy and proud it makes me that so many of you have joined in. (BEAMS)  
> SO… Are you ready? Because here we go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

/ The day she found out that she was pregnant, after years of trying, was the best day of Karen Ross' life. She swore right there and then, a hand pressed tenderly against her stomach, that she'd do anything and everything she could to be a good mom. To keep her child safe. But her mind was a fickle thing, especially because she couldn't take her medication while she was pregnant and later breastfeeding. That time without the pills she would've needed… It changed her permanently. She fell so far into the rabbit hole inside her head that she couldn't crawl out of it anymore. Even when she heard, far too often, how the child she swore to protect cried and called out to her when Thaddeus issued his punishments for misbehaving. She couldn't protect herself, either, from the emotional blows he delivered continuously. Thaddeus never forgave her for not giving him a son. Eventually Elizabeth – never Betty to her mother, who loved the longer name – learned to obey the house's rules. The silence which took the screams' and pleas' place was deafening but Karen welcomed it. Because finally the world inside her head was silent, too. Until the day Betty turned sixteen and moved out of home, as far away from her and Thaddeus as she could.

From that day on Karen's world was black and white. The silence she once welcomed pulled her under like a sinkhole. There was no medicine that helped after her heart had been ripped out of her chest. For years and years she existed in that colorless, numb and silent hue. Until Thaddeus announced that they were finally going to have the son she failed to give him. It didn't matter to her that he insulted her. Because the second she lay her eyes on Peter, the colors she'd been without for so long rushed right back into her life. Of course the new happiness didn't get to last, either.

Karen wasn't blind. Of course she saw what Thaddeus was doing to Peter. But after such a long time of living under her husband's rule, with all those voices and thoughts filling her head, she couldn't figure out what to do. And Thaddeus crushed whatever strength and will she might've found with a single, carefully executed verbal blow directly to where it hurt the most. 'You gave me three sons who died in your stomach and a failure of a daughter. Peter is my son, not yours. Do not try to tell me how to raise him!'

Karen's fighting spirit died. She kept her distance, refused to embrace Peter in fear of getting too attached to the boy she didn't deserve. When the child screamed and cried in that horrible room in the basement she pressed her hands to her ears and screamed as well. When he had bruises she pampered him with chocolate, which was her only act of rebellion against her husband. She ignored the boy's pleading, desperate eyes – ignored, ignored and ignored. Until one fateful day when she no longer could.

Thaddeus had kept Peter in the 'grounded room' longer than ever before since Tony Stark brought the child back from the cemetery. Usually the boy cried and begged to be let out, but not this time. Maybe that was what gave Karen the urge to finally act.

Once she was absolutely sure that both her husband and that woman of his who mainly worked as her babysitter had left, Karen sought courage from a bottle and pills. Then made her way to the basement. Peter's surprise and desperate hope at the sight of her nearly broke her heart. "Let's go for a walk", she whispered, holding out a hand for him.

He took it eagerly, without any hesitation. Someone trusting her so much… Karen had no idea what to make of it. She'd been seen as a pathetic failure for so long…

They enjoyed the morning. They went to a park after Karen bought Peter ice cream, the same flavor that was Betty's favorite. The boy was so grateful that it made her do something she'd sworn she never would. She hugged him, embraced him so tightly and desperately that it might've hurt a little. He clung back every bit as vigorously. They'd both been touch-starved for too long.

Her gentle hold triggered something in Peter. The child swallowed loudly. Then unleashed words that'd been stuck in his throat for months. "Mrs. Ross?" he whispered. "Mr. Ross, he… He hurts me. He… He keeps saying that I deserve it. But… I don't think I do." She let go of the boy as though he'd burned her and met a pair of pleading eyes. "I can't… It hurts, what he does. And I can't… I don't wanna go back there." A few tears slid down his pale cheeks. "Please don't make me go back to the grounded room. I don't wanna go back there. Please, Mrs. Ross…! Help me."

Karen stared at Peter. Slowly, slowly, her tormented, ill and far from sober mind mulled over those words and what they meant. What the boy was asking of her. The pain which came, the realization that she was losing him, too… It nearly destroyed her. So her head transformed it to such fury she'd never experienced before.

She saw red while Peter recoiled and stood, seeing the change. His fear and betrayal only added fuel to her fire. Wrong, wrong, wrong, this was all going wrong…! "You ungrateful brat!" she screeched, words she already then knew, deep down, she didn't really mean. And struck. It was the one and only time she ever raised a hand against the boy.

Peter had been in a poor balance to begin with. Her attack made what little was left of it crumble. The child flew backwards and stumbled to the ground, hitting his head on the bench with a loud, sickening sound. Then he lay unmoving.

For a few frozen seconds Karen stared. Then, her head spinning from shock and several substances, she picked up the boy. Held him close as she slumped to the bench.

She didn't attack him, of course she didn't. It was all in her head. Didn't Thaddeus say that what he did to Peter was all in her head, too? This was the same. The boy just needed some sleep, to get over the crankiness. They both needed a breather.

She sat there with the unconscious child in her arms, drunk and high out of her mind. Hoarsely humming a lullaby she used to sing to Betty. Finally holding Peter for the first time. Perhaps it all really was in her head.

She fell asleep. And woke up to find her arms empty. The only remaining trace of Peter was the blood on the bench, left there when he hit his head. Another child she'd lost, another child torn away from her.

She screamed, from he bottom of her broken heart and soul. /

/

There were a lot of times over the course of her job as a social worker when Maria Hill had felt like a complete, utter failure. When Peter Parker's, later Peter Ross', case was snatched from her hands she wanted to fight. Because a stubborn voice in he back of her head screamed, continuously, that the child might have a home but it didn't mean that the boy would've been in any way safe. And she did put up a fight, until it became blatantly obvious that her boss wasn't about to have a change of heart. Alexander Pierce and Thaddeus Ross had been best friends since high school. Later they became soldiers side by side. They had each other's backs, for bad or for worse.

This… could definitely be classified as 'the worst'.

Maria did try to keep an eye on Peter. But she had far too many cases to handle and a volatile boss breathing down her neck, threatening to fire her over any disobedience. The boy who was none of her business, at least officially, slipped from her grasp and radar until news of the child being missing broke out. It was a slip she wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself.

There was nothing she could do to fix what happened to Peter, though. But now that Pierce had been fired, she could try to make sure that the child wouldn't have to suffer through more trauma and horror stories. It might not be enough to help her sleep better at night but it was a start.

Maria's steps echoed unpleasantly when she entered a hospital's ward. Her heart broke and soared simultaneously when she found Tony Stark, who had his face practically glued on a window separating him from a patient room. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in a decade but the protective gleam in his eyes was fierce. It was something so rare and beautiful that it made her smile. He shuddered upon hearing her steps and didn't relax fully even after recognizing her, despite his glare melting to something far milder. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I saw the news." She didn't feel like explaining further. Or… Perhaps she did. "I wasn't responsible for Peter's case since a couple of days after we met at the hospital." The two of them always seemed to meet like this… "Pierce, my boss, wanted to handle Peter himself. His words, not mine. Those… what, ten times you called, saying that you're worried… Pierce buried them all." She shrugged at the look of surprise and several other emotions on the billionaire's face. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but… You deserve to know."

Tony didn't seem to know what to say, which was obviously unusual for the man. The silence which lingered was thick and heavy. A pair of dark eyes re-focused on whatever was happening inside the room. "We screwed up and let him down."

"You didn't", Maria pointed out. And if things weren't so ridiculously horrible she might've smiled. "You've fought harder for him than anyone else since his aunt died. The news and tabloids say that you found him and saved his life. And you're still here now. That's not a failure in my book."

Those words didn't seem to give Tony a lot of comfort. The man's eyebrows furrowed. "What's gonna happen to him? Is he gonna… go back to the system?"

Maria knew that what she was about to say might be a mistake. But leaving it unsaid might've been a bigger one. "Tony… When Peter gets better he's going to need an adult he can trust. He's…" She cleared her throat and hated herself for not managing to be professional. "That kid… He's probably the strongest person I've ever met. But he's been let down and left by so many people that I don't think he could handle any more heartbreak. He'll need you to stay."

Tony stared at her incredulously. "And… You seriously think that I'd do any better than those others?" He shook his head, downcast eyes darting around wildly. "Honestly? I can barely look after myself, on a good day!"

Maria fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. She gestured towards the patient room with an impatient hand. "Peter doesn't need perfection. He needs someone who gives a damn. Someone who's willing to try." The only reaction her words earned was the billionaire tensing up and staring into the room with unseeing, glazed over eyes. "Tony?" she called out, perhaps a little alarmed.

Tony swallowed convulsively. Like someone trying very hard not to throw up. "I ah…" The man coughed, a hint of green appearing to his face. "I'm… gonna get some… fresh air." With those words he dashed away.

Maria considered going after him but decided against it. Based on what little she actually knew about him, he seemed like the type that needed to… process things like this. And she just gave him a lot to chew on, even though she had a feeling that her words were such that'd crossed his own mind recently. She was sure that he'd come back when he was ready. The look in his eyes said that he wouldn't be able to leave Peter behind again.

With a heavy sigh and the first promise of an oncoming stress-headache building up, she turned her head. Inside the room a doctor and a nurse were keeping an eye on Peter, who seemed to be taking his first breaths without the aid of a machine. The boy appeared horribly small and fragile under the still remaining oxygen mask. But he soldiered on, with every single ounce of his determination. Despite her chosen line of a job Maria wasn't cut out to be a mom. Yet the sight in front of her brought a searing sensation to her eyes.

You'd better keep fighting, kid, she commanded inside her head. Because now you have people fighting with you.

/

/ Peter woke up with a pounding headache, unable to figure out where he was. He shivered upon realizing that he was held by someone who was snoring softly. The reek he belatedly recognized as that of alcohol made him feel sick to his stomach.

He was able to ignore that stench earlier, when she was looking after him. When he was stupid enough to hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd help him. But now he remembered why that smell meant danger.

Those bigger kids at school were right, he mused miserably and dizzily. He was an idiot. But at the moment… Mostly he was just scared, and tired. He wanted to go somewhere safe. The park around him wasn't safe anymore, with Mrs. Ross' momentary affection having turned to hatred. He wanted to go home.

But… He didn't have a home, did he? No one wanted him, for real. Where was he supposed to go?

Peter stood there by the bench and the woman who was out cold. Trembling, dizzy and disoriented. Miserable, terrified and disappointed. Yet unable to cry. Not for the first time he felt all alone in the world. In the middle of that overwhelming flood of emotions his jumbled mind conjured up Tony Stark's voice.

/ 'I'm so sorry! But I'll come up with something, I promise. Just stay strong and brave a little longer.' /

I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, the boy mused sadly and bit the inside of his cheek so hard that it bled. But I can't wait anymore. I've gotta go.

He still had no idea where to go. But a hint of spark made itself known in his chest, deep inside his once again shattered heart. It wasn't much, but it was enough to push him into motion.

Peter never made it far. Later, when Tony encountered the intoxicated man in the park, the billionaire couldn't possibly know that the lost soul had an encounter with the kid as well. The child was barely able to walk from shock and a concussion. And when a badly stumbling, angry man shoved him while passing by… It didn't take more to make the fragile balance break.

For a treacherous second Peter felt like he was flying. Until he landed roughly and hit his head a second time that day. The whole world spun. Then exploded to blinding white before turning pitch-black.

For the longest time Peter floated in the dark coldness, all alone. Until he heard a faint voice, from somewhere far away. 'PETER!' The frosty darkness swallowed him again before he got the chance to find out whether the voice was real or not. /

/

Peter had no idea how long he spent in the dark. When it began to fade away he still felt incredibly cold, enough so to start trembling. But… He wasn't alone.

"… kid …? … hear me …?"

It was a war Peter barely won. But he was determined. Once he'd wrestled his eyes halfway open his vision took some time to clear. He blinked several times and still wasn't quite able to believe what he saw. "Mr. Stark…?" His throat hurt, worse than ever before, and his voice was barely even a squeak. He didn't manage to care. "… a dream …?"

For a second or two the man seemed surprised. Then shook his head. "No, kid." The hand squeezing his was further confirmation. "I'm here. You're safe." (They both seemed to agree that those two things were directly linked to each other.)

Peter had been scared and lonely for so long. But those words… They chased a tiny smile to his lips. "… found me …" That voice in his dream, in the dark… It was real, after all.

Tony nodded, his eyes softening. "I did." The man then frowned upon noticing how badly he was shaking. "Still feeling cold?"

Peter looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah", he admitted reluctantly. "A bit."

Silence lingered while Tony hesitated for the longest time. Peter jumped slightly upon feeling the bed dip and the man sitting beside him. Until a large and calloused but gentle hand patted his hair clumsily. "Go back to sleep", the billionaire urged while lifting his legs to the bed. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

Peter still wasn't quite convinced that this wasn't just a dream. And he definitely had no idea what to think about this level of affection. What if this kindness was a lie, too, just a fleeting moment? But the child had been all alone and cold for too long. In the end the sheer need easily overpowered all his doubts and fears.

Very slowly, wary of the response his actions might get, Peter curled up against Tony. The man tensed up for a few seconds but didn't push him away or start yelling. Feeling a cautious spark of hope, the boy dared to close his eyes and eventually relax, at least a little. It was incredibly good to have someone warm, safe and solid beside him. "You're warm", he mumbled happily, before realizing that the words were coming.

Tony didn't call him stupid or worse. Instead the man ruffled his hair, far less clumsily and uncertainly this time. "Rest, kid. I'll be your human shaped radiator until you fall asleep."

But Peter wasn't ready to drift away yet. Opening his eyes turned out to be too much effort but he fisted his hand around Tony's shirt. As though needing further proof that the man was there. "Thank you", he managed barely audibly. "For finding me." Maybe this was just a tiny moment of pity. But someone caring about him enough to come and find him, for whatever reason… It meant more than Peter could put into words, especially with how lousy and exhausted he currently felt.

Peter fell asleep before he found out whether Tony answered him.

/

/ Tony ran. Like the devil itself was chasing him. Eventually he was in the water, barely even noticing how his pants and shoes got wet. Such trivial, shallow things didn't matter. All that mattered was the child floating in front of him.

Peter was every bit as cold as the water. So pale and blue that it made Tony want to throw up. With fast, unsteady hands he gathered the child closer. The man's desperate hands didn't succeed in catching a single breath, even the faintest flutter of a heartbeat.

"Boss?" Happy's voice was little more than a distant echo. "Tony?" The man's steps faltered when the driver finally saw the child. "Jesus…! Is he… Is he alive?"

Tony couldn't respond. Couldn't even really think. Because for exactly twenty seconds all that fit into his head was that Peter had died all alone and abandoned. /

/

Fifteen hours after Peter woke up Tony's head spun while he sat outside the hospital. Only Pepper's hand squeezing his kept him from losing his mind entirely. Breathing didn't feel pleasant. "What the hell am I doing…?" he sputtered, mainly to himself.

Pepper's fingers tightened around his hand. "Something amazing. And whatever happens, you won't be facing it alone."

For the first time since they sat down (that position chosen after he nearly passed out from anxiety) he looked at her. "Promise?" If he was with anyone else he would've despised how vulnerable and needy he sounded.

Pepper kissed his cheek. Which was something she hadn't done in… he didn't even know how long. "Promise", she swore.

It was all the encouragement Tony needed. His heart was pounding so hard that he feared it might explode and his hand was far from steady while he dialed an unfortunately familiar number. It took a while before his lawyer, Peter Quill, picked up. Grumpy and not even attempting to hide it. "I'm trying to enjoy the Bahamas. Should've known you'd start calling…" The man groaned and went on before the billionaire got the chance to interject. "What did you do this time?"

That should've been way more paranoid and insulting than it really was… "It's… more about what I'm about to do." Tony cleared his throat. The words about to squeeze their way through his throat sounded even more insane all of a sudden. "What chances do you think I'd have to adopt a kid?"

Quill was silent for such a long time that he checked the phone to make sure that the call hadn't been disconnected. Eventually the lawyer swore, loudly and colorfully. "I'll check how soon I can get to New York. Don't… do anything stupider than you already have until I get there." The man muttered something and a very obviously irritated woman snapped back far more loudly. "Gotta admit, Stark, you keep me from getting bored."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO… Tony's taken the first OFFICIAL step. Is Peter finally in for luck and happiness?  
> WE'VE REACHED THE HALFWAY MARK OF THIS STORY. There's still a bit of turbulence coming. Bear in mind, Peter's a VERY traumatized little boy, who's been through far too much. (We don't know everything about his past yet.) And Tony has his own demons to battle. Things… won't be easy…  
> SOOOO… How was that? Worth the longer than usual wait…? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you.
> 
> NEXT UPDATE is coming up on Tuesday, in the latest.
> 
> Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care!


	7. What Makes a Real Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Tony goes forward with the adoption plans, he decides that there's one person he needs to talk to. He and Peter have a talk that may change their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for being a day or two behind! My head suffered a hostile takeover. (winces) BUT, here we are, AT LAST!  
> THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your comments, love and support! I can't even begin to explain how much they mean to me. (HUGS) You guys are AWESOME!  
> Awkay, before I get all sentimental… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

There had been four occasions in all his life when Tony had felt as nervous as he did at that very moment.

When at the end of his second schoolyear he waited for his father's reaction to his report card. It was full of perfect grades, with one second best as an exception. Social Studies. His father, unfortunately, focused on the exact part the boy had expected him to. The man gave him an hour-long lecture about how important it was to know basic geometry and history. Tony couldn't bring himself to scream that he didn't get the perfect mark because of his twisted views of what a family was supposed to be like.

When he was… what, fifteen, and sat on the edge of Christine Everhart's bed. Stared at the stick she held in her trembling hand, both waiting with baited breaths for the lines to appear. To find out just how big the mistake they made thirty-six days earlier was. The result was positive. After two full minutes of loaded silence, of which Tony's panicking mind counted every second, Christine darted to the bathroom and threw up violently. She then proceeded to kick him out, saying that 'this' was her problem to handle. Tony didn't know what to do. He was just a child and terrified out of his mind. So, to his eternal shame, he walked out without uttering a word. Less than a week later Christine's family moved out of the city. He never saw her again, nor did he ever find out what became of… 'the problem'.

When Tony was seventeen and lifted his head upon hearing steps approaching the holding cell he'd ended up to. Over drunk driving, of all things. He was scared and so ashamed of himself that he could barely breathe, couldn't stop scratching his arm. He locked eyes with his father and waited for the blow to come. The man didn't disappoint him. ('You're a disgrace to the Stark family name', his father spat.) Tony responded to the attack with a physical kind and punched, wanting to pass forward some of the ache he'd been dealing with all his life. Wanting to make someone hurt the way he was hurting. A couple of days later he was sent to a school far away from home.

When he was about to ask Pepper out for the first time. (He waited until six weeks after they first met, which was unnaturally long for him. Because he knew that she was special the second he lay his eyes on her.) They were walking down stairs at the time, which proved to be a tactical error. He stumbled the stairs all the way down and broke his wrist when she said 'Yes'.

And now this. Tony stared at the very official-looking documents in front of him and tried very hard to focus on what Peter Quill was saying. The lawyer was most likely trying to explain what'd happen next. What more steps needed to be taken before things might be… official. All Tony could think about was one word on the papers.

'Adoption'

"Stark?" Quill snapped his fingers repeatedly. "Breathe. Seriously. Your face is starting to look funny. Well, funnier than usual."

Tony exercised baffling self-restraint and succeeded in not rolling his eyes or giving his lawyer the finger at that. Quill was right, that infuriating pain in the behind. The billionaire sucked in three hungry gulps of air and ended up almost choking on them. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm good. It's… It's all good."

Quill seemed suitably unimpressed. "I'll believe you when you stop looking like you need a bucket." The lawyer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. (Well, the man did mention earlier that he had the mother of all hangovers.) "Look… If you're not… ready, I get it. Seriously. This is a big decision."

It was, wasn't it? Tony looked back on how he first met Peter. On how the boy's eyes shone when they had ice cream together. On how achingly happy the child was when waking up to see him at the hospital.

Signing the papers taunting him from the desk would be the biggest decision Tony had ever made in his life. And not just for him, the billionaire realized. It began to dawn on him that someone else also deserved to have a say before it'd all be finalized.

/

On the way to the hospital Tony felt nervous, although he wasn't quite sure why. Or no, that was a lie he told himself. Of course he knew.

What if Peter would say 'No'? True, he had more than enough… resources to ensure that the kid would have everything he needed. But there was still one, rather big question. Did the boy want what he had to offer, after being let down by him several times?

"Hey." Pepper's hand gave his a firm, steadying squeeze. "Whatever goes on in the busy head of yours right now… Stop it. You'll give yourself wrinkles, and a headache."

Her pure, genuine affection made the pressure that'd been squeezing Tony's chest ease ever so slightly. He pursed his lips, forcing himself into calming down. Even if only just a little bit. "I hate wrinkles." He hated feeling this vulnerable, too. And he had a nasty suspicion that if he'd go through with this, he'd need to get used to that feeling.

"I… don't think there's anyone who actually likes them." It was almost adorable how Happy sounded nearly as edgy as he felt. By then they'd already reached the hospital.

Pepper gave his hand another squeeze just as they parked. "I'll be waiting right here", she promised in a tender whisper. They agreed, despite not liking it, that Peter needed to be alone with Tony when they'd have the… talk.

The day had been pretty emotionally loaded already. So excuse Tony for… losing control, for a moment. Overcome by enough affection to make his heart shudder, he kissed her cheek. Then let his lips ghost above hers for a few seconds before they pulled back simultaneously. They probably needed a… talk, too. But now wasn't the right time. The look in Pepper's eyes was enough to give Tony a dangerous whisper of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to fix what he broke one day.

Happy fuzzing over something on the driver's seat soon caught his attention. The driver was clearly looking for something. A grin appeared when the mystery item was finally found. "I… kind of bought something for Peter. Think you could give it to him?" 'It' turned out to be a very adorable teddy bear. Happy shrugged, appearing embarrassed. "It's… not the same one those idiots at his school destroyed. But… Maybe he'll like it, anyway."

Tony felt a thud, deep inside. This was a side of Happy he'd never seen before. "Harold Hogan, you're getting sentimental with old age."

Happy's eyebrow twitched. "First of all… Call me old again and I'll toss this thing at you." The toy was pointed towards him like it was a dangerous weapon. "Secondly… You're a year older than I am!"

Pepper groaned and rolled her eyes. She couldn't quite hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Kids, knock if off!" she scolded. "Happy, Peter's gonna love that teddy. Tony…" She gave him a gentle little smack upside the head. "Stop stalling and get going."

Tony smirked sheepishly. Trust her to catch his act… Then, with a deep breath, he pushed himself to motion.

The hospital was a hectic place and Peter's ward made no exception. Still nurse Sharon stopped and gave him a smile of relief as soon as she noticed him. (He was tempted to wonder if she ever actually left the hospital.) "Just the face I wanted to see today", she sighed. And went on before he got the chance to make a (probably stupid and tasteless) joke. "The police stopped by today, asking questions. Pete… didn't take it well." She grimaced. "He's developing fever. We've got our fingers crossed that it won't get worse than that." Under different circumstances he might've been able to appreciate her trusting him with far more information than she should've.

Right now, though… His stomach twisted in a way he might never get used to – and had a nasty feeling he'd have to get used to, if things would go the way he was planning. "Maybe I should just come back later."

Sharon gave him the kind of a look that would've made any mortal too afraid to argue whatever she was about to say. Her tone was hushed but intense. "I think you're just what he needs right now. And something tells me that you need to see him, too. So man up and get in there. I'll buy you as much time as I can."

For a second, two, five, ten, Tony stood frozen. Then did what he'd always been the worst at. What he'd always feared the most.

Followed his heart.

/

In the darkness Peter lay absolutely still, his eyes wide and barely daring to breathe. He didn't dare to move, couldn't even twitch. There was a monster right beside him.

"You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you, little boy?" a man's voice hissed. A pair of gleaming eyes looked down on him. "Because if you tell anyone… If you tell a soul… Horrible things will happen."

Peter whimpered, his heart hammering desperately while the monster's shadow moved closer.

"Shh…"

A hand grabbed Peter. And he couldn't remain still and silent any longer. He screamed, at the top of his voice.

"Shh…! Hey, hey!" It was a different voice. A safe one, comforting one. "Calm down, kid. It was just a dream, you're okay."

Peter's head spun and he found it difficult to understand… well, anything. What was Mr. Stark doing there? Was this a dream, too? He didn't want this to be a dream. He wanted to hug the man, just so he'd know for sure that this wasn't another sweet illusion. But the nightmare's hold was too strong, rooted him to the spot. He let his head fall, then wrapped his arms around himself when he didn't know what to do with them.

"Pete?"

Tony's voice was gentler than he'd ever heard. It was enough to usher Peter onwards. "It's… really cold", he murmured, trying to get his teeth to stop chattering.

Tony sighed and ruffled his hair in what seemed like a comforting gesture. "You've got fever. Something like that may happen after an unplanned swim. Don't worry, you'll be okay."

Peter really, really wanted to believe those words. But the dream, the memory which projected it… He shivered and looked longingly at Tony's hand, placed to the bed right beside him. Which was when he became aware of the tears building up in his eyes and shrunk further into himself. Very few people since aunt May had tolerated the sight of his feelings getting out of control. "I'm sorry", he mumbled and looked away. The tears refused to stop rolling, which only made him feel worse. He couldn't believe that he was like this in front of Tony again…! "I… I'm trying to stop, I swear, but…" He trailed off, his heart beating frantically while he waited anxiously for whatever punishment he'd receive over being weak.

/

Tony watched in a total shock how the child broke down, piece by piece. What, exactly, was he supposed to do in this situation? Fairly quickly his instincts took the lead. He swallowed thickly, hating the lump building up in his throat. "Pete? Take a lesson I've never managed to hammer into my thick skull. Never, ever be ashamed of feeling things. It's what makes you human. It's what makes you… you." He knew he would've lived a much happier life if someone had bothered to teach him that. If he didn't have a father who never stopped telling him that Stark men were supposed to be made of iron. If someone had taught him how to handle emotional turmoil. Instead the man he took his example of how to be a man from constantly ridiculed him for… well, being a human being instead of a robot.

Peter didn't seem reassured. But at least the child relaxed marginally while wiping his eyes with a fist. "I'm glad you came here again, Mr. Stark", the boy whispered. "I'm… I'm sorry, if it doesn't look like I am."

Tony would've wrapped his arms around the boy if either one of them would've been ready for it. "Kid, stop worrying. I know." He wasn't used to his voice sounding so soft and caring. But wasn't any decent human being supposed to at least try to comfort a clearly upset child? "And guess what? I'm glad that I came, too."

A very small, almost cautious smile appeared to Peter's lips and it was enough to make Tony wonder if this wasn't the biggest mistake he'd ever made, after all.

This… was very possibly the worst time for Tony to ambush the already overwhelmed child with his news. But it was what he came for, and if he wouldn't get it done now he quite possibly never would. He took a deep breath. "So… Here's what I've been thinking about. When you get out of this place, you're going to need a new home."

Peter stared at him with wide eyes. Held his breath for a couple of seconds before daring to voice what was on his mind. "So… It wasn't a dream?" The boy sounded heartbreakingly hopeful. "I really don't have to go back… there? To the Grounded Room?"

It took some time before Tony managed to figure out how to respond. "That's right, kid", he affirmed, oddly hoarse. "You never have to go back. But… You do need some place to go. So… I've got a suggestion."

Behind his flamboyant, egoistic front Tony had always been insecure. Abandonment… It was one of his greatest fears. And when he gave the adoption application papers to Peter he was offering more than he thought he could handle.

Peter's still wide, incredulous eyes scanned through the documents. Slowly, slowly, the disbelief filled gaze rose to meet his, searching. "You… want to…?" Peter swallowed thickly, a hint of moisture gathering to the boy's eyes. "You want me? For real?"

Tony nodded resolutely. Far too aware of how fragile and important this moment was. "I'm… not saying that I'd be any good at it. Honestly, kid? I'd probably mess up a million times. Still… I want to try and give you the home you deserve. But, only if you want to give it a try, too." He went on upon seeing the child's confusion. "Pete, you've had way too much happening to you against your will. You deserve to get to choose this time."

Peter continued to stare at him, suddenly very pale and barely breathing. "I… I don't understand", the boy whispered. "Why would you want me? I'm…" The child looked away, such embarrassment in his eyes that absolutely didn't belong to them. Tony recognized that look, the shame and self-hated – he'd battled both those almost all his life.

The new, more than a little heartbreaking familiarity strengthened Tony's resolve. "You're a great kid who deserves all the love in this world", he announced firmly. Realizing that he might've given the boy a bit too much to process, he wrestled with frustration and impatience. When he went on he sounded almost calm. "You don't have to decide right now, okay? Because it looks like you need some sleep." Finally he remembered the teddy bear and revealed it to the child. "Happy sent you this. Maybe you won't have more nightmares with it guarding you."

Peter's eyes, tired and distraught as they were, lit up at the sight of the toy. The boy stared at the item like someone who'd never been given a gift before. Despite very visible eagerness the child didn't dare to touch the teddy bear before the billionaire handed it closer. Slowly and gently, obviously wondering if he was allowed to, the still recovering kid took the toy. Then held it close with so much affection and joy that it would've broken anyone's heart to pieces. Peter's eyes shone when they eventually focused on him. "Tell Happy 'thank you'." The boy bit his lip, clearly realizing something. "I… don't have anything for him…"

"Kid?" Tony interrupted as gently as he could manage. The child's thought-pattern of imagining that every kindness and gift acquired a favor as a payment didn't sit well with him. "Happy isn't expecting you to have anything for him. Sometimes people just do nice things because they feel like it."

It was impossible to tell if Peter believed him. But the child clearly liked the thought, if the way his hold on the teddy bear tightened was any indication. The shadows hanging above and around the boy disappeared, only to rush right back. The silence was endless, until it was cut so abruptly that they both jumped. "Mr. Stark? I… I want a new home. I mean, a real one, not a fake one. With you. But… What if there's… something wrong with me?" It was easy to see how much Peter would've wanted to look towards him but didn't dare to. "I mean… You don't know me. What if you won't like me, either?"

Tony felt like someone had just smacked him. It was a small miracle that he caught enough hold of himself to formulate a response. "And what if there's something wrong with me?" Maria's speech about Peter not needing perfection floated to his mind. He had absolutely no idea if he was anywhere near enough. But if the boy in front of him wasn't worth giving it a shot, then what or who was? "I'm not perfect, Pete. No one's perfect. But there's nothing in this world that'd make me dislike you. And there's no way I'd ever put you to some… Grounded Room. Or let you end up to the streets again, even if you wouldn't like me." He was babbling, and it should've bothered him. He shrugged off the discomfort the best as he could. "All I can promise is that I'll try my best, even if I fail sometimes. And I won't expect more than that from you. You're allowed to fail, too. That's what real homes are all about, right?" He was genuinely asking, because when it came to real homes… He really, honestly had no idea. He just had this stupid, nauseatingly mushy dream…

Peter was quiet, the child's face scrunched up from how hard he was thinking. The boy held on to his new teddy bear so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Then, slowly and shyly, he looked towards Tony. "I… think I'm ready to try." It was entirely too easy to see how difficult that decision was.

So Tony chose to treat the permission with the seriousness it deserved. With firm but gentle hands he took the adoption application and signed it. Peter observed with the kind of solemn eagerness that made him seem far older than his years.

And it was the most terrifying thing either one of them had done, baring their broken hearts with the knowledge that they might be damaged again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, people. It's official. THE PAPER has been signed. (BEAMS) Let's hope that those two broken-hearted darlings will get the chance to heal together soon!  
> SOOOO… Was that worth the longer-than-promised wait? PLEASE, do let me know! I LOVE hearing from you. Just… thought I should mention…
> 
> NEXT UPDATE COMING DURING THE WEEKEND – PINKIE SWEAR! THERE: We got to see what's happening to the Ross'. AND, there's a precious reunion. Along with the return of a monster we haven't met yet…
> 
> Until next time! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care!


	8. A Dance of Nightmares and Daydreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds out whether he gets to adopt Peter or not. While he and Peter do some recovering, together and apart, a monster from the past is lurking in the shadows...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! I thought that this was going to be a short chapter. But here we are. (chuckles)  
> THANK YOU, so much, for the amazing amount of comments, support and love you've given this tale! I CAN'T BELIEVE that so many of you are so excited about every update. (HUGS)  
> Awkay, because I hate to keep you waiting any more than I have to… Let's go! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Tony could only visit Peter so many times when he had no legal rights. Smuggling in a tablet, one armed with Skype, turned out to be one of his better decisions. Especially because the kid happened to be as big of a technology fan as he was.

It was one of those nights when neither of them could sleep. Tony was just tinkering on an invention that wasn't going anywhere when the boy called. (It was the first time Peter contacted first, and the billionaire felt prouder than he would've cared to admit.)

Peter had hidden himself under a blanket. The tablet's light illuminated the child's face, which had been practically glued on the screen. "Mr. Stark? The aliens… aren't really attacking, right?"

For a moment Tony could only stare at the screen, struggling to comprehend those words. "Aliens?" He shook his head very slowly, by some miracle managing to maintain his composure. "No, Pete. Aliens aren't attacking. We're safe." While he hated the fact that the boy had these nightmares, at least these were better than those the kid had while suffering from fever. These were… normal bad dreams. (Well, he'd always had a very flexible definition of 'normal'.) These weren't some horrible memories.

Peter didn't seem reassured. "You went through this… hole, into space. And then you fell, all the way down, and… And…" The child swallowed thickly, very small and vulnerable all of a sudden. That and embarrassed, now that the nightmare was losing its grip. "I just… I guess I needed to make sure."

Tony needed no further clarification. (He wasn't called a genius for nothing, after all.) "Hey." He did his best to smile warmly. Calming down a frightened child definitely wasn't something he was used to. He chose to go by what he would've wanted to hear when he was a boy and had bad dreams. "Everything's okay. I'm not going anywhere, kid."

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and lowered his gaze. "But… What if the adoption people say 'no'?"

Now that, seemed to be the real problem. Tony hoped, dearly, that he wouldn't end up saying something that'd make things worse. "Then we'll figure out something else." He leaned a little closer, because it felt like the boy needed it. "Peter, I'm not gonna just throw in a towel. And I'm not leaving you behind again."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what." This time it was easier to smile. "Now go to sleep, kid. It's late. And I don't want the nightshift nurse to get mad at me if she finds you awake."

Peter's grin was a genuine one, the load of fears and ache lifted at least for a moment. "She won't see me", the boy whispered conspiratorially and tugged at the blanket. "See? I'm disguised."

Tony couldn't help it. He knew that he was supposed to admonish the child over staying up past his bedtime, but… "One of these days I've gotta watch 'Harry Potter' with you."

The way Peter's eyes lit up had nothing to do with artificial light. "And 'Star Wars' too?"

"'Star Wars', too", Tony swore.

That night they both dreamt, before and after eventually falling asleep.

/

Tony had zero experience on caring for children. And in complete honesty, until very recently he'd assumed that he didn't even want any experience. Yet here he was.

Sitting beside Peter Quill. Staring at a social worker whose name he couldn't remember. Waiting with bated breath to find out whether he was allowed to adopt a boy who'd been through and lost more before he was even nine than most people did before reaching their nineties. (How could one person have so much power in their hands?)

He stared at the social worker's rapidly moving lips. (What was her name, seriously? Dawn…? Diana…? Darcy…? Donna…?) He couldn't take in a word of what she was saying. He barely understood what was happening when she pushed a pile of papers towards him.

Real, actual, 'you're in this for life' adoption papers.

At some point the social worker left the room. (Darcy, her name was Darcy!) If Tony had been in a coherent enough state of mind to pay attention, he would've noticed the meaningful look passing between her and Quill. He might've even been touched by the fact that instead of following her, the lawyer stayed with him.

As it was, all that existed to Tony in the whole world was the pile of papers he'd been given to sign. And what they represented. "Did she…?" He shook his head, barely able to believe it. "Did she say 'yes'?"

The smile on Quill's face wasn't his usual cheeky grin, and it certainly wasn't the one he used to woo women. This one was the heartfelt, honest kind. "She said 'yes'."

Unlike most people assumed, Tony didn't often smile genuinely. But right there he did, without even noticing it, the beam of light shining in his eyes coming from the bottom of his heart. Only to falter when he realized something terrifying. "I've gotta go shopping."

/

Ned Leeds hated hospitals. The smell lingering in those places brought chills down his spine. His mom knew this. Which was probably why she seemed surprised for a moment when he asked her if they could visit Peter.

The last time he saw Peter he could tell that something was wrong. (Even more so than before.) Then his best friend went missing, to be found in a… rough shape. So Ned decided to get over his childish fear, because he needed to make sure that Peter would be okay.

He was ridiculously fidgety when they entered Peter's ward, though. His mom exchanged a few quiet words with a blonde-haired nurse, then squeezed his shoulder and ushered him gently towards one room. (When he was older he'd appreciate the fact that he was allowed there, despite being too young and not a family member.)

Ned wasn't sure what he expected to find. For some reason seeing Peter awake, albeit barely, and watching TV made him hesitate. He might've retreated if his best friend didn't happen to turn his head and see him just then. They stared at each other, neither child quite knowing what to say after everything that'd happened.

Peter swallowed like someone whose throat hurt. The soon following whisper was shy. "Hey."

"Hey", Ned echoed, unsure how to continue.

There was a still healing, ugly-yellow bruise marring the side of Peter's head. Which the unhealthily pale skin made seem even more vivid. And even a child could see the signs of fatigue. But after far too many nightmares, which constant guilt only made worse, the relief over seeing Peter alive made Ned's eyes well up. His shoulders slumped when a fresh bout of guilt landed on them.

"Ned?"

Suddenly inability to speak wasn't a problem anymore. The words slipped from Ned's lips in a chaotic mess. "I'm sorry! I knew that something was wrong, that you were in a trouble, and… And… I tried telling adults but no one was listening. I tried to help, I swear! I'm… I'm sorry I didn't get them to listen." He wiped his eyes roughly, wondering why his knuckles came back moist. "Then I told mom, and the police, and they found you and I thought… I thought you were…" The final word was such that wouldn't come out.

Peter's voice was quiet, but he heard it loud and clear. "It's okay. I'm okay. I mean… I will be okay." The boy seemed to mean it. "And… It wasn't your fault, any of it." The child focused on the TV, scratching his arm that already had many marks of similar treatment. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Ned shrugged. Because what else could he do? While he wiped his eyes again he realized just how tired he'd been, too exhausted to even be embarrassed by the tears. "Just… Don't scare me like that again." He nodded towards the TV and suddenly felt a spark of excitement. "Is that 'Adventure Time'? So cool!"

When Ned's mom peered into the room a few minutes later, she discovered that both boys had fallen asleep, holding each other's hand tightly.

/

Tony had never bought anything for a child before, let alone set up a room for one. He assumed that toys were a necessity. But what kind did Peter like? All the money he had was a small consolation when he didn't have the faintest clue what to do with it. Wasn't the boy also supposed to get a bed? What other furniture did kids acquire? Peter went to school. What, exactly, did that entail? And what did normal eight-year-olds eat? For the first time… well, ever he was irritated by the fact that his mind had chosen to delete most of his childhood memories.

Tony had absolutely no idea what he was doing. And with Happy as his shopping partner… It was a case of the blind leading the blind.

In the end Tony stared at a collection of about a million different Lego-sets. His eyes wide and his face paling dramatically. And came to a fairly accurate conclusion of his situation. "I'm so screwed."

Happy nodded unhelpfully. "Yeah, you are. The final scene of 'The Graduate' level screwed." Seeing his confused expression, the driver went on. "You know, where Ben and Elaine sit on that bus, wondering what the heck they've just done."

Tony's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?" And what did some movie have to do with… any of this?

Happy stared at him incredulously. "You've never seen 'The Graduate'? Everyone's seen 'The Graduate'!"

Tony groaned and shook his head. "You're not helping, Hogan." He decided that it was time to call tech support and fished out a phone. Fortunately for his sanity, it took only three rings before the one he called picked up. "I'm shopping for Peter", he blurted out before the person on the other end got the chance to utter a word.

That was all the necessary information. "Where are you?" (There was a time, regrettably many occasions in fact, when that question was asked with a great deal more urgency.) Pepper went on as soon as he'd answered her. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Just, this time… Don't buy the whole place before I get there."

Not for the first, nor last, time Tony wondered what he'd succeeded in doing right to deserve her.

/

Hours later Tony and Pepper stared at a massive room at the fifty-second floor of the Stark Tower. It was basically a child's fairytale land. Toys… Books… There were more of those than he could accurately count. He had an inkling suspicion that someone as young as Peter wasn't supposed to have the 'Star Wars' Lego-sets he purchased.

Would the boy like anything he'd bought? Or this room? Or him?

The laugh that bubbled from him was slightly hysterical. "I overdid it." He nodded to enforce his own words. "I… definitely, totally overdid it this time."

"You did", Pepper affirmed in a tender voice. "But I'm not going to scold you over it, just this once. Peter's going to love it here."

Tony twitched. "You think so?" More words came before he had the slightest chance to stop it. "Today it really hit me how little I know about kids. What if I'll mess up everything? What if I mess him up? What…?" His chaotic rambling was cut by lips pressing against his.

The kiss was short but tender, full of so much love that it took his breath away. Pepper's, too, if the way they both panted afterwards was any indication. For a little while the room around them spun dizzyingly.

Only a slight blush on her cheeks reminding of what just took place, Pepper straightened his shirt, which putting together the toys and furniture had wrinkled. In the process she brushed his face gently with two fingers. "I'm letting you in on a secret. No one knows what they're getting into when they become parents. And every parent makes mistakes." Their eyes met, echoed the same affection the kiss did. "But the way you're freaking out right now… It shows how much you already care. In the end that's all that matters. No… magic tricks or miracles necessary."

Tony smirked. "Funny you should say that…" He snapped his fingers.

In a flash the room became dark. Until stars lit up, shining on the walls and the ceiling. They spun around everywhere in a hauntingly beautiful dance, like actual living beings.

Pepper gasped. Her eyes shone about as beautifully as the artificial stars. "What…?"

Tony shrugged. Perhaps a little smugly. So sue him, after he'd clearly impressed her. "Just a magic trick." In full reality, it was just a sound-activated light system. But a magician had to keep his secrets.

In the covers of the near-darkness, Pepper wrapped her arms around him. Tony returned the embrace because there wasn't a single cell in his body that wouldn't have wanted to. In a silent understanding they began to sway softly to some inaudible music, in the same rhythm with the stars around them.

They'd have to talk about that kiss. And about… a million other things. But for now… For now they did what everyone should remember to do, at least from time to time. They just enjoyed the moment. Which resulted to an actual miracle.

For a few stolen minutes in the middle of the stars, the chaos in Tony's mind quieted.

/

While Peter was definitely recovering, faster than the medical personnel seemed to have expected, he also still needed plenty of rest. Which wasn't made easy by the constant horrible dreams that assaulted him almost every time he fell asleep. It was nearly time for sunrise when he dozed off to a light, restless slumber. When his eyes fluttered open bright daylight filled the room.

Nurse Sharon gave him a smile upon realizing that he was awake. "Hey. I was starting to think that you'd sleep away the whole day." She took her phone and sent a message, then opened a window. "Don't worry, I'll come and close it in a few minutes. Just letting in some fresh air." The wink she gave him before leaving the room made his curiosity tingle.

Was… something going on?

Peter was about to nod off again when his eyes caught an unexpected sight. A drone, approaching the window of his room. It buzzed outside for a while, almost like trying to peer in. Until it floated through the window and was left hovering near his bed.

Now, Peter was very much aware that there were bad people in the world, capable of horrible things. But curiosity won caution easily. A little stiff from having spent a long time resting, he crawled out of the bed and tiptoed towards the drone. Coming closer, he noticed that there was a note attached to it. He tilted his head to read it.

'Hey, kid. Guess what? They said 'yes'.'

Peter could only stare at the words. He'd had so few good things happening to him since May passed away. And now, feeling like his heart was about to burst from joy… He was overwhelmed. Wondered if he was dreaming.

Almost like he was sleepwalking, he made his way to the window and looked down. Tony stood on the pavement and grinned radiantly upon seeing him. The boy couldn't help but return the gesture while he raised his hand for a wave.

There, realizing that his life was really, seriously going to change… Just this once for the better… Peter was overcome by something dangerous, because the emotion could be destructive with how vulnerable it made him.

Hope.

He jumped when the room's door opened and barely managed to hide the drone before the door opened. He expected it to be Sharon. Instead his primary doctor, Banner, walked in. He didn't like the look on the man's face. "Hey, Pete. There's… something the two of us need to talk about."

/

Clint Barton had long since developed a sixth sense of knowing when people were hiding things or lying. Which was convenient in his line of a job. (Natasha called him Hawkeye for this trait. Often with amusement, other times in an exasperated tone.) Sometimes it was also a burden, because every once in a while ignorance was bliss.

When he noticed Natasha, Phil and Fury working on something, clearly tense and agitated… He was also quick to realize that they were hiding something from him. That late afternoon he finally found out what it was when he was called to Phil's office. He entered with well-justified tension, squeezing a coffee mug so hard that it almost burned his fingers. Seeing that Natasha was also there offered little comfort. Especially with the expressions she and Phil wore. "What's going on?" he demanded, never a fan of dancing around things like this.

Phil and Natasha exchanged a look before the man spoke. "So… Karen Ross is in a psychiatric hospital, and will most likely stay there for a very long time. Thaddeus Ross will be facing a trial and definitely time in jail. Their daughter has agreed to testify against him."

Clint nodded slowly. Impatience and dread bubbled in the pit of his stomach. "I'm still waiting for the reason you're wearing those long faces."

Phil dragged in a deep breath. "Peter ran away from his first foster home, remember? It was a paperwork and juridical nightmare, but… We finally got the name of his first foster parent. And we found him." A few endless seconds crawled by while the man studied him with an intent gaze, obviously wondering if he'd be able to handle what was to come. "It's Jacques Duquesne."

Clint's hold on the coffee mug broke and it crashed to the floor.

Over two decades had passed by. But that name… It still hit harder than a bullet. The memories it brought along, such Clint had fought all these years trying to forget… They were worse. The worst was the new, crushing weight of guilt.

Natasha reached out a hand towards him. (Never noticing Phil's cautioning shake of a head.) "Clint…"

He shuddered and clenched his jaw. "Don't… touch me right now." He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He needed to get out.

Clint spun around and marched out of the room, slamming the door as he went. Blatantly ignoring the worried looks he left behind and the confused ones he earned. He didn't notice much of anything upon leaving the building. The darkest ghost of his past followed him the whole way, sneering at him.

/

At the exact same time Tony was at a meeting with Peter's primary doctor, Bruce Banner, and psychiatrist, Sam Wilson. The medical professionals' solemn expressions had him on the edge. "So… What's this all about?"

The two men shared a look. It was Bruce who spoke. "There are some important things you need to know about Peter, before you take him home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? You didn't expect the drama to be over yet, did you? (whistles innocently) Poor Peter! Let's hope that this won't be anything TOO BAD… (winces)  
> IN THE NEXT CHAPTER we'll learn some more heartbreaking things about Peter's past.
> 
> NEXT UPDATE coming up next Wednesday.
> 
> Oooh, and before I forget…! Just a couple of days ago I realized that this fic has a theme-song. 'What if' from Five for Fighting. Especially this tiny bit matches SO WELL:
> 
> 'What if your hand was my hand
> 
> Could we hold and let go
> 
> What if your life was my life
> 
> Can we love what we don't know'
> 
> Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that I'll see you all there.  
> Take care!


	9. There's No Eden Without a Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day has finally arrived. Tony learns a lot about Peter's past and emotions run high. Elsewhere a monster from the past is lurking...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I'm so sorry about being a day late. Typing this took WAY longer than I anticipated. (winces) BUT, here I am!  
> THANK YOU, so much, for all your comments, love and support! Words can't express how much they mean to me. (HUGS)  
> Awkay… It's time to continue and see just where the loose end of the previous chapter leads! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

When Clint Barton needed a little time to… process something, it was for the best to give him that time. It was one of the first lessons Phil Coulson had learned since meeting the younger man. He waited with patience he'd practiced himself to have, until his office's door opened and familiar, heavy steps entered.

Clint paced for a while like a trapped wild animal before testing his voice. "Duquesne… He's been arrested, right?"

Phil nodded slowly and watched Clint continue to pace. (The man was never still, especially when he was agitated.) "Earlier this morning, right here in New York. Chances are that he came here after hearing about Peter's disappearance." He preferred not trying to guess the criminal's motives. With a deep breath Phil steeled himself for the hardest part. "The reason I didn't tell you about him getting caught immediately… It's that he's… requesting something."

Clint's body twitched from apprehension and disgust while the man's eyes finally locked with his, demanding a further explanation.

Reluctance twisted and turned Phil's stomach as he pushed a file towards Clint. "Michelle Jones, age eight. She's been missing for two weeks, now. Duquesne says that he has her in his hideout, locked up with no more food or water left. And the only one he's going to reveal her location to is you." He waited for a reaction. When no visible one came he went on hesitantly. "Look… If you don't feel like you can do this, I understand." Hell, he wanted to tell Clint to never breathe the same air with that monster again.

Clint, however, had other ideas. The man shook his head sharply, the eyes that were locked on the file full of dark fire. "Coulson, I'm not letting a little girl die all alone, locked up somewhere, just because I'm scared of a damned boogeyman." The detective's jawline twitched from how tense it was. "Just arrange that meeting and let him have his fun. I can take it."

Phil could only hope that Clint was right.

/

Tony had a brief, bizarre out of the body experience while the medical professionals described to him what Peter had gone through. Before he'd only had some guesses and the boy's brief, vague tales. But now… Now, for the first time, he heard the full story.

Peter's parents died in a car accident when the boy was only four-years-old. He most likely barely remembered them anymore. His uncle Ben died when he was six. Some random, drunk and scared sixteen-year-old stabbed the man dead when Ben tried to stop a robbery. Less than a year later a sudden, unexpected stroke claimed the child's aunt's life. She'd been serving dinner and simply fell where she'd stood. Peter saw the whole thing. No one knew the exact details, because the boy refused to open up about that day. But despite his young age the kid called for help, did everything he was supposed to and told to. It wasn't enough to save May, and Peter would probably never forgive himself for it.

There was no one else left to care for the terrified, grieving and traumatized child. So the system handled him. He was taken in by a man named Jacques Duquesne, who already fostered five other children. The man had been a well-trusted aid for the overworked and overwhelmed child protective services for great many years. (He was also a good friend of Alexander Pierce.) When the boy ran away everyone was shocked but quickly blamed it on the child's troubled background. There was an intense search, for a time. But soon Peter became just another sad statistic. Until his dramatic collision with Tony and Happy. While the boy was at a hospital some medical professional's suspicions tingled enough for Peter to be examined properly. The horrible, ugly words glared at Tony from the medical files he'd been handed.

'… sexual abuse …'

After the months the child had spent on the streets, there was no way of having enough solid evidence for it to hold in court. Especially because, as it later turned out, Duquesne was a master manipulator and Peter was far too emotionally locked up to testify. Then, before the boy had really healed even physically, Alexander Pierce whisked him away to a new home, against medical advice.

Life with Thaddeus Ross… It was a nightmare of psychological and physical torment. Far too much to handle for someone with Peter's history.

Sam sighed heavily. "Most of the time Peter's that absolutely adorable little boy you've seen. But… His life's been rough. It's left marks, inside and out. He has nightmares pretty much every night. Sometimes he goes days almost without saying a word. And… He has panic attacks. If he goes home with you we'll have to discuss what his triggers are, so you can try to avoid them. Do you know what PTSD is?"

"Yeah", Tony managed. Hoarsely, his mind racing and dragging him to dark places. He knew, all too well. And he would've never, ever wanted any child to experience it. Let alone someone like Peter.

"We're not telling you this to make you second guess your decision to adopt." Bruce's tone was gentle but firm. "But you need to know… where he's from. What he's been through. Because… Peter has serious psychological issues you need to work with."

Tony nodded, dazed, and did his best to take in everything he'd just discovered. He didn't notice the searing sensation in his eyes, let alone figure out what caused it. Somewhere deep in his chest his heart was breaking.

"I wish we'd had the chance to go through with this talk sooner." Sam's eyes held a great deal of sympathy. "We get it if this is too much of a challenge for you. That's why it's important that you know everything right now, before Peter gets even more attached to you. The last thing he needs is someone he's let close reel him in and then quit."

Tony blinked rapidly. (Was he sending the S.O.S Morse-code with his eyes…?) Then his whole mind latched on certain words. "He's… attached to me?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah. He doesn't stop talking about you." The psychiatrist sobered. "Which is why it's important that you take a step back and think, properly. For both your sakes, because I don't want either one of you trapped in something you can't handle." There was a pause. "The next time you see him… Tell him bye and explain things properly. Or take him home, and embrace everything he brings along. The good and the bad."

/

Peter's heart raced from sheer terror while steps approached his hospital room. This was what he'd been dreading since Bruce revealed that now that Tony would be his dad, the man needed to know. This was worse than any nightmare he'd ever had. Because after May, no one had been able to… accept him. What would she think of him if she saw him now? All those ugly secrets he'd carried around for so long… And now Tony knew them all. This was where the billionaire would decide that he wasn't worthy of being taken home, after all. Why would a world-famous billionaire and genius want someone like him?

By the time the room's door opened Peter was trembling miserably. It took all his courage to meet Tony's eyes, to face a yet another rejection. What he found… wasn't what he'd expected.

Tony's eyes, which even a child noticed were suspiciously red, held shock and ache. But also the kind of affection he hadn't faced since May. The billionaire smiled, instead of scowling from disgust. And spoke merrily instead of calling him by horrible names. "Are you as fed up with this place as I am?"

Peter stared, wondering if this was a dream, after all. Barely daring to breathe. Until the pressure building up in his whole body – in his heart and soul – got too much. He burst into tears. In an instant he was ashamed of himself, which only made him cry harder.

Tony was, understandably, confused. "Pete?" The man walked closer slowly, clearly afraid of startling him. "What's going on?"

Peter couldn't answer. Partially because he was crying so hard, partially because even he couldn't understand it fully. Why was he crying when he was relieved and happy?

All he could do was cling to Tony, with all his might, feeling safe for the first time in a very long time. And he hoped, from the bottom of his heart that'd been broken too many times, that this wouldn't be stolen from him, too. That he wouldn't mess this up somehow.

After what felt like ages Peter finally found enough of his voice to be able to whisper. Barely audibly, but still. "Is it time to go home?" He would've really wanted to ask the billionaire if he really, honestly still wanted to offer him a home. If the man was disgusted with him, or pitied him too much to ditch him. But the boy was too much of a coward to find out.

If this happiness was as fleeting as those precious moments of bliss he'd experienced before… Then he was going to hang on to it, tooth and nail. As tightly as he was holding on to Tony.

Maybe Tony understood something the child didn't. The man's arms tightened around him. "Yeah, kid. It's time to go home."

/

Jacques Duquesne had aged horribly. He'd lost almost all of the dark hair that used to be thick and shiny. There was a map of lines and wrinkles on his pale face.

But those haunting predator's eyes shifting swiftly and lighting up to a gleam upon spotting a prey… They were chillingly familiar. "Clint Barton, all grown up…" The near fondness of that tone made the addressed man feel like throwing up. (The things that voice said to him, once upon a time… The things those hands and long fingers did…) "I never thought that I would get the chance to see you again. But I'm glad I did. You're still my favorite." The criminal pointed towards a scar marring his left cheek. "You're the only one who fought back hard enough to leave a permanent mark."

Clint gritted his teeth. While he sat down, slowly, the table separating them didn't feel like enough of a barrier. He snorted, unable to help himself. "And don't I feel lucky for that, every time I see the scar you gave me in return…" He folded his arms, his eyes hardening until they were pure steel. "You wanted me here. I'm here. We both know that it's not enough for you. So what else do you want?"

/

Tony had deliberately chosen to pick up Peter in the evening. That way they'd avoid most of the paparazzies, because he didn't think the kid was ready to handle a media storm. His plan was shockingly sensible and quite endearing. And doomed to fail.

The hospital's parking area was calm and quiet at that time of the day. Peter was as tense and exhausted as he was tired. Held Tony's hand tightly the whole way, as though afraid that he'd change his mind or just slip away. Knowing what the child had gone through, Tony didn't judge him for those concerns. The boy's other arm hugged the teddy bear Happy gave him with all the strength his small body had.

Happy was waiting for them. A momentary frown revealed that the driver noticed the tears the child shed recently. Fortunately, with a touching amount of tact, the man didn't ask. Instead a wide smile appeared. "Hey, Peter. Are you ready to see the coolest room any kid in this whole world has?"

Peter's eyes started to shine. "Yeah", the child announced, and sounded so sure that it would've tugged at anyone's heartstrings. His hand tightened still around Tony. (How was that even possible?) The boy then glanced towards his teddy, which was something he seemed to do a lot when he was nervous or excited. And came to think of something that made him tense up. "Mr. Happy? Thank you, for the teddy. Mr. Stark said that you don't want anything in return, but…" The child trailed off, appearing uncomfortable and unsure how to set his words.

The adults exchanged a confused look. In the end Happy shrugged, because the child obviously expected some sort of a response. "I'm pretty sure that boss already told you as much, but… Don't sweat on it. It was just a gift. I don't expect anything in return."

Peter looked down, his cheeks coloring while the rest of his face paled ever so slightly. "That's… just it", he mumbled. "Since aunt May I… haven't gotten a gift without being told to do something in return."

Tony's mind sped through what the doctors revealed to him. He wanted to explode in a fit of rage when puzzle pieces clicked together, creating a horrible picture. It took a considerable amount of willpower to keep nausea and anger from being seen or heard. "You'll get used to it again", he promised. (It seemed that there were great many completely normal things the kid would have to get used to again.) He then decided that it was time to steer Peter's mind elsewhere. "Now… Let's go and check out the most magical place in the world!"

That clearly piqued Peter's curiosity. Through the whole car-ride the boy didn't stop asking about the Tower and Tony's inventions. (It was a little shocking to discover just how much about what the billionaire did the child understood.) Also, through the whole ride Peter didn't stop squeezing Tony's hand like it was his lifeline.

But yes. Tony's plan of a calm and quiet homecoming was doomed to fail. As soon as they reached the Tower the alleged genius realized that he'd underestimated the speed of gossip.

The swarm of reporters made Tony's stomach squirm and blood boil. He could only imagine how Peter felt about the unwanted attention. The child emitted a mixture of a whimper and a panicked cry while a sickening amount of people tried to peer into the vehicle. The questions were muffled by the car's thick windows but still far too loud.

"… true that you're adopting the same kid you ran over?"

"… publicity stunt?"

"… feel to be a parent?"

"… name?"

"… feel to be the son of one of the world's most famous billionaires?"

"… introduce yourself to us!"

By then Peter was trembling. Badly. And seemed to be very close to hyperventilating. His hand squeezed the billionaire's so tightly that nails nearly dug through skin. Tony's heart ached in his chest.

He was far too used to all this lunacy, but Peter…

Just then Pepper appeared. Like some sort of an angel from up above. Her voice boomed from behind the reporters, loud enough for parts of it to reach their car. "… child involved … privacy …! … public statement tomorrow …"

Happy wasted no time. As fast as was possible without jeopardizing safety he drove them to the parking area under the Tower. None of the trio breathed properly until the doors closed, sealing away the terrifying world outside.

Behind the steering wheel Happy swore softly, clearly forgetting that there was a child in the car, then fell ominously quiet. Tony's breathing pattern was far from healthy and he noticed with dismay that it matched Peter's. They were both terrified out of their minds.

"Woah." Tony did his best to radiate calm he didn't feel in effort to help the child relax. "That… was scary." He could think of a few other words. (Ridiculous… Maddening… Criminally insensitive…) He tried to catch Peter's eyes, but they were wide and stared at some spot in the distance while the boy fought to pull himself together. "Are you okay?"

Peter nodded dutifully, even tried to pull up a brave face for him. The boy's whole body refused to stop shaking, though. "I'm okay." It was repeated at least four times in a near-whisper while the child struggled to convince himself.

Tony nodded back, slowly. "We're okay." It didn't sound convincing even to his own ears.

Peter was quiet for so long that he wondered if the child had fallen asleep. Until a barely audible voice finally drifted to his ears. "Is it… always like that?"

Something thudded inside Tony. He sighed. "Sometimes." Testing dangerous waters, he wrapped an arm around the still shivering boy's shoulders. It was a challenge to hold back a sigh of relief when the child tensed up but then began to melt to the touch instead of shying away. "I'm sorry, kid. I should've warned you." Parenting skills, strike one, he mused bitterly.

Peter shrugged, in that heartbreaking and slightly infuriating way of his. "Sam… told me that you're famous, and that we're going to get a lot of attention. I just…" The boy hesitated. "I guess I didn't know it'd be… like that."

Tony sighed again. (And had a nasty feeling that there was a lot more of doing that in his future.) This time he was the one considering his words carefully, which felt unnatural. "There's gonna be a lot of stuff that'll… surprise us." Hell, did either of them know what they were getting into, for real? He ruffled the child's hair. "But I'm ready to go for it if you are."

Peter leaned his head against his shoulder. Ten endless seconds ticked by. "I'm ready, Mr. Stark."

Tony wanted to smile and roll his eyes at the same time. (Another thing he'd probably have to get used to.) "Pete, I'm legally your parent. Think we can settle for Tony?"

Peter immediately nodded obediently. "Okay, Mr… Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes. But also smiled. And figured that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this.

He just hoped that eventually, over time, Peter could, too.

/

Duquesne appeared surprised. But only for a second. "Well, you never were one to enjoy being sweet-talked to…" The criminal leaned forward and Clint leaned backwards in a response, unable to stop himself. It seemed to both amuse and irritate Duquesne. "You're right, Clint. There is something else I want. To see Peter, just for five minutes. To ensure that he's alright, because the people who had him after me clearly didn't take care of him properly."

The blaze of fury that rose was so intense that for a few moments Clint actually saw red. He lifted his chin, his eyes flashing. "No", he growled. "You already got me playing this sick little game with you. There's no way you're getting him dragged into it, too."

Duquesne clicked his tongue with disapproval. "Still so rude, even when a little girl is missing. Such a loudmouthed hothead… Some things never change." The criminal did, however, reveal a piece of paper. Then began to slide it towards him on the table. When Clint grabbed the note the monster's fingers brushed his, lightly, teasingly, deliberately.

Clint didn't want to be sick in front of his tormentor. So he pushed him to his unsteady feet and began to march towards the door, which seemed to be hopelessly far away. He'd already almost made it to safety when Duquesne's serpent's tongue stopped him. "Seeing you again was enough. For now. I already have a lawyer working on… something else that I want."

Clint's steps froze while ice-cold dread traveled down his spine.

/

It was funny, really, that Tony was almost as nervous as Peter felt when they stood in an elevator, on their way up, up and up. He glanced towards the child who was practically glued to his side. "Everything okay, kid?"

Peter bit the inside of his cheek, blushing slightly. "Just… I've never been to a building this big before. Or… anywhere this high up."

Tony grinned. "Yeah? Well… You're gonna love it. The view from your room is amazing."

"Uh huh." He could tell just how badly the boy tried to calm down. Still Peter jumped when the doors opened.

"C'mon", Tony urged, ushering the child out of the elevator with a gentle hand. "Your room's the second door at right."

It didn't take long to reach the correct door. Peter paused behind it and looked at him with eyes that clearly waited for a permission. When Tony nodded, suddenly too breathless for words, the boy entered slowly. And gasped.

"Is this…?" Peter shook his head, again and again. "Is this… all for me?" The child appeared baffled. Or was he going to a shock…?

"Absolutely." Tony shrugged. "I couldn't decide what to get, so… I kind of got everything."

Peter's comically wide eyes turned towards him. "But… I don't deserve this! I mean… I can't even pay you back…!"

Tony lifted a hand, then two fingers. "Kid? Two things. One?" He lowered the other finger. "This… is parenthood, I guess. Parents don't expect anything in return for what they get their kids. And two?" He lowered the other finger as well. "I… think you've already paid me back. A couple of times." It was disgustingly cheesy. But for just this once he didn't mind.

Especially with the way his words made Peter's eyes well up and sparkle. The boy opened his mouth several times but nothing came out. That was alright. Tony understood, anyway. (Was that parenthood, too?)

"Wanna see the coolest part?" Tony went on at the child's nod. "It's gonna get a bit dark for a moment, but then… There's a surprise. Ready? One… Two…" He didn't wait for three before snapping his fingers.

Stars filled up the room, and from that very second they were all that existed to Peter. The child spun around, almost like dancing. Eyes shining in a way the billionaire had never seem before, utterly mesmerized. Then, without a warning, the boy flopped on his back to the floor, his landing softened by a thick carpet.

"Pete?" Tony asked tentatively.

"I'm just… I wanna see as much of them as possible." Peter tried to turn his gaze towards him but couldn't tear it away from the stars. "Can we… stay here and look at them, like this? Just for a little bit?"

Tony should've said 'no', because it was getting late. But seeing how happy the traumatized boy suddenly was… He was powerless. "Two minutes." He did try to sound stern, at least.

Eventually they both ended up falling asleep on the floor. The day's stress and emotional overload proving to be too much. The artificial stars kept watch.

And that was how they spent Peter's first night at the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a rough start. But at least it's a start. (smiles) Now let's hope that a certain monster won't do something that'll damage THIS…!  
> SOOOO… Worth the wait? Back to the drawing board? PLEASE, do let me hear from you! It always makes my day.
> 
> NEXT UPDATE will come this Sunday, or early on next week. (I'm spending a bit of time away from my laptop this weekend, so time to tinker on my projects is scarce.)
> 
> Until next time, folks! I really hope that you'll show up for that one, too.  
> Take care, of yourselves and all the Peters out there!


	11. Lost Children (Found)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter begin the process of getting used to living together. At the same time people rush to save another child. And a horrible secret is about to be revealed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Wrapping this up took AGES. (winces) Mainly because my mind wasn't decided on a couple of things. Now it is – and I'm BACK! (GRINS) Yay?  
> THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your absolutely amazing comments, love and support! You can't even imagine how much they mean to me. (HUGS)  
> Awkay, before I get sickeningly sappy… Let's go! I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Natasha was waiting in a car when Clint made his way out of the prison. Her eyes were mercifully free of pity. She also knew him well enough to not offer a word.

Clint slumped to the passenger's seat with a galloping, aching heart and a painfully tightly clenched jaw. "Well. That was fun."

"Did you get the location?" Natasha inquired, understanding that he needed something practical to focus on, immediately.

He showed her the note, and they were on their way.

It was a circus. Literally. One that'd been abandoned for a very long time. Carson's Carnival of Traveling Wonders ceased to exist shortly after Clint… took his departure. At the time there was no solid evidence of its other owner's sickening deeds but people refused to stop talking. The place never survived its questionable reputation. And Duquesne needed to relocate himself to stay out of the spotlight. But now it was conveniently close and isolated enough for dropping off a little girl the monster didn't want people to see.

Clint never, ever expected that he'd have to come back, yet there he was, and felt sick to his stomach.

At least he had Natasha's presence and a missing child to keep his mind grounded. The detectives advanced swiftly and quietly. The area wasn't a small one but they knew exactly where to look from. The only remaining question was whether they were on time.

The trailer that used to belong to Duquesne was locked, just like Clint remembered it being several times. But now he was an adult. He gathered every ounce of his pent-up rage and kicked with all his might. The thin door gave in easily.

"Michelle?" Natasha called out as soon as they entered the dark space. "Are you here? It's okay, we're with the police. We're here to help you."

They saw a tiny figure, hunched motionlessly to the furthest corner with her back against the wall. They felt a shudder of dread until their flashlights met her face. She had a pink wig that somehow looked like it was made for her, and a pair of squinted eyes that carried fierce determination alongside sheer terror. She was trembling. "I'm cold. And I…" She swallowed like her throat hurt. "I hate it here. Can we go away now?"

Clint shared her sentiment so much that it was almost funny. Almost. "Yeah", he agreed. "Let's go."

/

Sadly, it wasn't the first time Tony woke up from a floor. Since the first occasion he'd gained quite a few years and his body wasn't as adaptable to his bad decision making as it once was. His back was screaming and cursing him when he drifted towards the waken world with a groan.

"Mr… I mean, Tony?" Peter's voice was painfully tentative. It was the kind of hesitation and fear that might never fade away entirely. "Are you up?"

Tony sighed heavily. "Awake, yeah. Getting up… Not so much." He cracked one eye open and smiled at the child who sat a slight distance away, clearly wondering what he was supposed to do. "Morning. What time is it?"

Peter chewed the inside of his cheek. "Almost eleven thirty. I… I had to use the bathroom, but… I did my best to stay quiet, I swear."

Tony fought the urge to grimace. He'd slept almost half of the day away? While he was in charge over a child? Wasn't he doing a spectacular job as a parental figure… At least Peter hadn't cracked his head open, broken any bones or gotten himself into the kind of trouble the billionaire couldn't even imagine at the moment. He just… sat there, reading a book and very clearly trying to make himself as invisible and inaudible as possible. It was actually pretty heartbreaking.

Tony felt a hint of relief he didn't think he deserved. The kid survived his first night with him. That was something, right?

The sound of a stomach rumbling cut the chaotic string of thoughts. Peter's cheeks colored. "I'm, uh… kind of hungry." That sounded far too apologetic.

Tony groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position. "I'm sorry, kid." He went on at the genuine shock his apology provoked. Had any adult who'd wronged Peter ever apologized? "Of course you're hungry, it's almost noon. I messed up and slept too late. So I'm sorry." A lot of people imagined that the infamous Tony Stark wasn't capable of feeling remorse, let alone expressing it. Good thing Howard's DNA failed to latch onto him there.

Peter stared at him and it was easy to see the wheels turning in his head while the child pondered if this was a trick. Or a cruel joke. And if Tony wasn't exactly familiar with apologies, the boy didn't seem quite sure how to receive one. "It's okay", the kid hurried to reassure him at last, like there was a time limit to replying.

Of course it wasn't okay. But Tony decided to not waste time on arguing with the boy and pushed himself up, the child mimicking his motion obediently. "C'mon. Let's go and raid the kitchen. I'll teach you how to make a proper omelette."

How about that. Peter smiled radiantly. "I like omelettes."

Tony grinned. By then they were waiting for an elevator "See, kid? There's a reason the two of us found each other." It was at least half a joke.

Peter… didn't quite take it like that. The boy looked at him with surprise. Then, tentatively, took an experimental step closer. After a mighty war with himself Peter leaned his head against him. And Tony felt the walls he'd built around his heart shudder dangerously.

/

Pepper entered the kitchen an hour later, having grown alarmed when Tony didn't answer his phone. What she found… definitely wasn't what she expected. There were egg peels everywhere. And the air was polluted by a distinct hint of something having burned.

Tony and Peter didn't seem to mind. In the middle of the ridiculous mess the two sat right next to each other, munching their late breakfast happily. Peter gave her a shy smile. "Hi, Miss Potts." He pointed towards his plate. "Look! We made omelettes."

Pepper wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh, cry or start screaming. Something told her to start getting used to it.

/

At the hospital Clint and Natasha were relieved to learn that Michelle hadn't been… touched. She was dehydrated, malnourished, mildly hypothermic and definitely in a state of shock. But she'd make a full recovery. Physically. Emotionally… Now that was a whole another battle. Especially when it turned out that the girl didn't exactly have a safe environment to return to.

Clint, who sat on one of the waiting room's torturous chairs nursing a takeaway mug of coffee, glanced towards Natasha when she entered the room and kicked the wall. Hard. "I take it you didn't find her parents?"

Natasha groaned. "I… did. Apparently her father is unable to come and see her because he got himself arrested for drunk driving last night. For the twelfth time in two months. Her mother is… out of the picture."

Clin's jawline became so tight that it hurt. He glared at the opposite wall and decided that he hated that shade of light yellow. "Sounds like his style", he hissed. Unwilling to mention the monster by the name. "He sees a lonely, helpless child… One who'd do anything for a tiny bit of affection… And lunges."

"Hey." Natasha punched his shoulder lightly. It wasn't enough to make the memories go away but he appreciated the attempt. "Not anymore, remember? He's in jail and will stay there for a really, really long time."

Clint took a sip of coffee and let the bitter taste dance on his tongue before gulping it down. "Yeah." If only it was that simple. If only a piece of that disgusting creature wasn't still roaming free, inside his head.

"You okay?"

He nodded and coaxed his shoulders into relaxing. "Yeah. Just… need to catch my breath." He forced down the rest of his coffee. "I'm glad we got to Michelle before…" He didn't want to spit out the final words.

"So that's why you're wearing your happy face", Natasha scoffed.

Clint grimaced. Bits and pieces of his… talk with a monster came creeping back. "I'm… psyching myself up for doing something unpleasant."

/

Peter was nervous and very, very excited when after breakfast Tony announced that soon he'd see something really cool. They took the elevator and pressed it to floor twenty-eight. "What's there?" the boy inquired, knowing that he was overstepping his rights and risking punishment. Knowing that he was too nosy for his own good but unable to stop himself.

But this wasn't Thaddeus Ross. Tony grinned merrily instead of lashing out. "Like I already said. Something super cool."

That was when the elevator's doors opened. Peter felt his eyes widen and a shudder of amazement go through his spine where a computer voice greeted them. "Good afternoon, sir, and young sir."

Peter gasped and spun around. And did so again when he didn't see where the voice came from. "What…?"

Tony laughed. "That would be Jarvis. An AI I've been working on."

Peter blinked several times, his heart jumping and fluttering from the kind of curiosity he didn't think he'd ever experienced. "That… That's the coolest thing ever!"

Tony grinned, a great deal of pride in his eyes. "Oh, wait until you find out what else I've been working on. You see… One of the main things my company develops is robotics."

They entered a massive space full of so much never before seen technology that Peter had hard time believing that it was all real. That this wasn't just another fever dream. That he hadn't died in that freezing water and ended up to heaven.

He was too overwhelmed to notice how flattered Tony was by his admiration. "I'm going to give you a full tour. On one condition." His new guardian was very serious all of a sudden. "This place is awesome and all that. But this stuff can also be really dangerous. So you'll never come down here alone. Ever. Because I want you to be safe, especially in this building, since this is your home."

Peter was so excited that it was sort of embarrassing. But he wasn't too out of it to realize how important that rule was. So he nodded firmly. "I promise, Mr. Stark." He bit his tongue the second the wrong name slipped from it.

Tony, mercifully, let the mistake slide. This time. "Then let me introduce you to the pride and joy of the Stark Industries."

/

They ended up losing track of time entirely in their very own Wonderland. Until Peter's stomach started rumbling so loudly that it sounded like a thunder. At least the kid wasn't embarrassed this time, or hid it well. "We… don't have to eat yet, right?"

Tony ruffled the child's hair. "Nice try. But I've gotta at least try being a decent grownup." Which didn't exactly go well with how he continued. "How would you feel about some pizza?"

Peter reacted exactly like Tony had expected. The boy's eyes lit up. "It's… I haven't had pizza in ages!"

Unfortunately their fun was ruined by a computer voice. "Sir? Your presence is acquired at a meeting."

Tony groaned. His mood didn't improve when he noticed the way Peter's shoulders sagged. "Didn't I make it perfectly clear that today needs to be a day off?"

"I apologize, sir, but this came up unexpectedly."

Tony swore under his breath, and hoped dearly that the kid wouldn't hear. Then, feeling unpleasantly like he was taking after his father, he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid. I'll try to get rid of this stupid thing as soon as I can. And then we'll have the best pizza you've ever tasted in your life." He gave the child a menu. "Hey, don't look so glum. I'll be right back."

Peter nodded. Some of his former enthusiasm failed to return but the child smiled bravely. "It's okay. I always take ages choosing, anyway. Uncle Ben used to tease me about it."

Tony ruffled Peter's hair once more, affectionately this time, while following the child to an elevator with a mental promise to not let the boy down. Howard Stark never came back early when he promised to. Tony vowed to do better.

Tony had a full rant on his mind once he'd walked Peter back to the boy's room and headed to the meeting. All words died into his mouth when he saw the men waiting for him. One was Peter Quill, the other detective Barton. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded instantly. Dread made his whole body grow cold. "Is this about Ross?" If that pathetic excuse of a human being would cause more problems, he swore…!

"No." Quill was uncharacteristically solemn, seemed almost nauseous. The lawyer gave Barton a quick look before continuing. "Peter's first foster parent, Jacques Duquesne, was arrested recently. And… He had a pretty interesting story to tell."

Barton took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I have to say this. I know that they told you before you took Peter home, but…" There was a long pause. "Duquesne is monster who preys on children." The hostility in the detective's voice was truly chilling. He glared at a wall, his mind obviously far away.

Tony tensed up, starting to feel queasy himself. Of course he'd known, sort of, but hearing it like this… "I know that Peter went through… stuff like that", he stated tensely.

Quill shook his head and seemed to wonder how much he'd be able to hear. "There's… more." The lawyer paused. "Peter's father and mother were only seventeen when they first met. Peter was born five months later."

Tony frowned. Then felt his eyes widen when the pieces began to slide together. "No…! Hell no…!"

"Duquesne says that he saw something familiar in Peter. Now he has his lawyer demanding a paternity test." Clint clenched his jaw. "He knows that he'll never have a lot of parental rights, seeing as he's a sex offender about to serve time until unforeseeable future. But like I said, he's a monster. And if he can try to worm his way back into Peter's life to destroy it… He will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… Crap. Just… crap. (winces) Like Peter's life wasn't messed up enough already…!  
> What will the adults do? How will Peter react? IF he actually finds out what's going on… And how will the new dad and son continue to cope, especially with this new strain…?  
> PLEASE, do let me know your thoughts? Was that any good? At all? Christmas is almost here. A review could be considered your good deed… (winks, then coughs) Just putting it there…  
> Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll all join for that one.
> 
> Take care – and HAPPY HOLIDAYS to each and every single one of you!

**Author's Note:**

> (Notes for the very first chapter.)
> 
> Oh boy… What a start! Poor little Peter! To imagine someone that heartbreakingly young living on the streets… (winces)  
> SO… What's the verdict? Any good, at all? Would you be interested to read more? PLEASE, do let me know! Hearing from you SERIOUSLY makes my day, especially when I'm only just starting a new tale. Just… thought I should mention… (whistles innocently)  
> AS FOR UPDATES: I'll TRY to update twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays. (There'll be one week when I can only update once due to a holiday trip, though. I'll warn you when that comes.) The story will be otherwise completed by Christmas, but the epilogue will show up shortly after. How does that sound?  
> Awkay, I seriously need to go catch some sleep. THANK YOU, so much, for reading this first part! I really hope that I'll see you all again at chapter two.  
> Take care!


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